


Shelter from the Storm

by tonraq



Category: Bleach
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-06
Updated: 2014-08-07
Packaged: 2018-02-11 23:39:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 22,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2087385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tonraq/pseuds/tonraq
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PreAnime. Kuukaku is visited by a strange pair, one rainy Rukongai night. An imagining of a small part of Yachiru and Zaraki's coming to the Gotei 13, with Kuukaku along for the (bloody, explosive, bizarre) ride.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is an old story. And it was conceivably canon when it began (in 2007), but was rendered AU due to twists in the manga in 2008. I have edited it slightly for grammar, sentence structure, etc, but otherwise it remains as it was originally posted.

It was late in the humid evening, and Shiba Kuukaku sat smoking quietly on her doorstep, waiting for the heavy clouds to break. Shiroganehiko and Koganehiko, relieved of their guard duties, were still cleaning up from supper, and Ganjyu was off somewhere with his punk friends. That was fine with Kuukaku; peace was hard to come by in the often-chaotic Shiba household. The coals in her pipe glowed and a few drops of rain pattered to the dust of the path that led up to her house.

She wondered absently how Kaien was doing; he hadn't visited for a few weeks now. Too busy chasing after the girls at his new school, no doubt.

A low rumble of thunder rolled across the sky, rooting itself in the hills. Kuukaku massaged her right bicep; the wound was healing, slowly. She'd have to look into prosthetics; perhaps Yoruichi's happy-go-lucky friend would be able to procure one for her.

The heat, thick, all-encompassing, pressed down on her; the bandages itched and scraped against new flesh, and her pipe sputtered. Suddenly uncomfortable, she stood and stretched; lightning split the sky, highlighting the solitary figure standing between the enormous carven legs which held her banner aloft.

Kuukaku didn't pause for a moment in her stretch; relaxing, she snapped her fingers. Shiroganehiko and Koganehiko sprang into being behind her.

"Kuukaku-sama!"

"The usual, Kuukaku-sama?"

Kuukaku grinned, tilting her head back over her shoulder. "Yeah, the usual. And don't forget the antiseptic this time."

The twin guardians hustled back into the house, where Shiroganehiko would prepare the guest room and run the bath, and Koganehiko would gather the first aid materials and stand by with a stretcher. Quite a few unsuspected visitors ended up entering the Shiba household on that stretcher. Kuukaku was a solicitous host.

Random drops were still falling to the ground in short intervals, and Kuukaku could feel the electricity of the storm zinging through her as she walked towards the motionless figure. The itch had migrated from her arm to the middle of her back, giving her a restless, irritated feeling.

As she got nearer, she could see that the man was tall - taller than her by at least a foot - with long, greasy black hair and a large build. He wasn't fat - nobody in this area of Rukongai even came close to being well-fed; just big, as if he had been constructed on a different scale than other humans. Unfazed, Kuukaku strode up and did not stop until she was three feet away from the man, though she sized him up carefully. A sword was in his right hand. In his left, he cradled a pink-haired baby.

Lightning flashed, and it began to pour. Neither Kuukaku nor the stranger flinched as water roared down in a solid sheet to the ground. The child squirmed in her sleep.

"Shiba Kuukaku." She barked at the stranger, her normally loud voice carrying clear over the noise of the rain. "This is my land you're trespassing on."

"Zaraki Kenpachi." A crackle of lightning gave the man an eerie yellow aura as he stared down at Kuukaku. "I need a place where the kid can wait out the storm. She's not doing so well."

A man from the eightieth, someone who styled himself a ruthless killer, and willingly. Kuukaku sized him up once again. On closer inspection, she could see that the girl in his arms wasn't a baby after all, but the massive size of her companion made her look far younger than her five or so years. There was a ragged, open gash running from hairline to jawbone down the left side of the man's face. He must have been bleeding elsewhere; red rainwater puddled on the path underneath him.

"Sheathe your sword." Kuukaku said abruptly, making up her mind. "I don't allow naked weapons past the gates."

The man didn't break eye contact with her as he replaced his sword at his waist. Kuukaku, satisfied, turned and began walking back to the house, squinting slightly against the rain. She knew that the man would follow.


	2. Chapter 2

It rained all night, the humidity leaching out of the air and pooling on the ground. The oppressive atmosphere did not lift, however, and finally Kuukaku was driven outdoors, to ask Zaraki Kenpachi when he planned on reigning in his reiatsu.

He gave her a blank look, which she returned with hard eyes. The dim light glowing from the window cast his face in shadows and angles, and the gash on his face gleamed a wet red. His left eye was stuck shut with coagulating blood. Kuukaku maintained eye contact with the man; after a few minutes, she felt the pressure let up, little by little, until the air was clearer and the hand around her lungs had eased. He looked away, then, staring out over the rainy landscape.

"Thank you," she said, without sarcasm, and wondered why. "The girl –"

"Yachiru."

"- Yachiru is sleeping. She has a fever; it won't threaten her life as long as she has rest and lots to drink." The Kenpachi gave a non-committal grunt, still looking elsewhere, but Kuukaku noted how he shifted uneasily. There were several minutes of silence; if she squinted and focused, she could see the man was wavering slightly from exhaustion.

"The Shiba household is not a charity," she said finally, breaking the silence, "but I'm not heartless enough to kick out a sick kid and a half-dead man." Kuukaku turned and began to walk back inside. "Follow me. You need stitches."

He followed her into the room adjacent to Yachiru's, where Kuukaku's bodyguards had drawn a bath, made the bed, and laid out the first aid supplies. She was finding a needle when he spoke, standing in the doorway.

"Thanks…for Yachiru's sake," he didn't meet her eyes, and said the word as if it were an admission of weakness. Kuukaku could predict what was coming next. "But I don't need this stitched." He gestured to the face wound. "It's enough that you're helping the kid; I can take care of myself."

Kuukaku held the needle between her teeth, threading it with her left hand, then removed it and pointed to the chair in the middle of the room. "Sit."

He remained standing. "Che."

Kuukaku sighed, marched over, and grabbed the front of his clothes, attempting to yank him down to face-level. He wouldn't be budged, but looked down at her, his mouth a grim line in his face, reiatsu flaring.

"Kenpachi from Zaraki, this is my house, got that? I say what goes. If I say you need stitches, you need stitches, and I'm not gonna let you waste my time with a tough act." She released him, breathing evenly despite the reiatsu pressure, and walked back over to the chair. "Now sit. Either deal with it, or get out."

The man turned his head to the side again, dismissively, but then walked in towards the chair. The room seemed to shrink due to his gigantic presence; his face was level with Kuukaku's, even while sitting, and an iron band settled itself around her ribcage, contracting and expanding in spikes. Kuukaku closed her eyes and focused her reiatsu into a shield in order to have some breathing space. This was unacceptable, but first things first.

Before she started, he looked up at her. "How the hell're you gonna patch me up with just one arm?" He asked. Kuukaku bit back the urge to backhand her injured guest, and said nothing except for "Stay still."

The small amount of healing kidou she knew made it easier for Kuukaku to maneuver the needle through skin and out, one-handed though she was. The man made no sound as she tugged the thread firmly through the skin of his cheek, and winced when she got close to the eye. He reeked of sweat and old blood, and she made him bathe and put on a fresh hakama before she would look at the rest of his wounds.

She wrapped his left arm from the elbow to the shoulder; it bore several long, shallow gashes, all slicing downwards. She patched up his right shoulder blade (there was a stab wound and another gash) and stitched up a deep cut running diagonally from the middle back to his left hip.

It was dawn by this time, and the Kenpachi had fallen into a deep sleep, despite her needle. Kuukaku enlisted the aid of Shiroganehiko and Koganehiko to lift the giant from the chair and on to the sleeping mat. She left her bodyguards to clean up the room quietly, and retired to her own room. It had been an eventful night.


	3. Chapter 3

Kuukaku was gradually roused from her slumber by a slight scritching noise, which stopped and started again at random intervals. She groaned as she sat up, the noise like a painful itch on her tired brain, and, wrapping her sheet around herself, she went to investigate. She slid open the door to her room, and, seeing nobody in the immediate area, looked down the hall in search of the noise. She blinked, not quite able to process what she was seeing. There was a pink-haired toddler shuffling very slowly towards Kuukaku, gripping at the wall with chubby fingers, unsteady on her small feet. Her fingers against the wood made the scritching noise as she attempted to balance herself.

Right. The visitors. The man from Zaraki. The girl with the fever...this girl? At closer inspection, the girl's eyes had bags under them, and she had an unhealthy pallor to her face. She had nearly reached Kuukaku; the woman knelt as the little girl looked up at her.

"Hallo Miss. Do you have any water?" The girl's voice was slightly raspy, but bright and matter-of-fact as only a child's can be. "I tried to wake Ken-chan, but he just rolled over, and I'm really thirsty, so I came to find some water, or someone who has water. Do you have any water, Miss?"

Kuukaku regarded the little girl for a moment - the only indication of her surprise that the tiny thing could talk - and then smiled easily. "Yeah, I have water. Come here, I'll piggyback you to the kitchen." She turned her back to the girl, hoping that the kid wouldn't fuss; Kuukaku could tell that just walking down the hall had taken quite a bit out of the little toddler. Luckily, the girl hopped on enthusiastically, nearly choking her ride.

"Oof, kid, loosen up!"

"Sorry, Bedsheet-san!" The girl clambered up so that she was riding on Kuukaku's shoulder. She was surprisingly strong for such a tiny-looking thing, but Kuukaku still had to put up her arm to steady the toddler as she swayed unsteadily on her perch.

"It's Kuukaku," said the woman, starting to walk down the hallway, "What's your name, kid?"

"It's Yachiru. Kusajishi Yachiru. Do you like it? I think it's a good name."

So this child wasn't the man's daughter, instead taking the 79th as her surname. Interesting. Kuukaku squinted up at Yachiru. "It's a really nice name, kiddo." She turned in to the kitchen, setting the girl down on the table.

"Ken-chan gave it to me; of course it's a good name," Yachiru prattled on as Kuukaku poured water into a glass and gave it to her. "There's nobody else with a name like it in the whole wide world. Well, nobody that I've met anyways. Ken-chan's so smart to think of a name that nobody else has. One day, I'll be as smart as he is, and as strong as he is, too." She paused to take a few big gulps of water, and looked like she was going to continue when Kuukaku quickly interrupted.

"Yachiru, where are you and... Ken-chan going?" She hadn't asked the man because she knew he wouldn't have answered, but the girl seemed too young to misread a question as a threat.

"I dunno. Ken-chan and I go wherever we like, because Ken-chan's always looking for new people to fight with because otherwise he couldn't get any stronger, and anyway it's no fun when there's nobody to fight with. But there's always people to fight with, even if we don't find them, because they find us. It's really great cause Ken-chan can fight all he wants and then we get money and he can buy me crayons cause I like drawing and I think I draw pretty good pictures, only they always fall apart in the rain but that's okay because I can draw more when Ken-chan fights more people and then gets money so he can buy me more crayons and paper." She took another few gulps of water, sighed loudly, and then announced "I'm tired again. Where's Ken-chan?"

Amused, Kuukaku pointed down the hall. "He's probably still sleeping where you left him."

"Oh, right. Bedsheet-san, will you take me to Ken-chan?"

"I thought you were tired, Yachiru-chan?"

"Yes, I am. Now take me to Ken-chan." The girl looked at Kuukaku as if she might be a little slow. Kuukaku figured the girl knew what she was doing, and turned around, bending slightly, to offer her back to Yachiru. Again, the girl clambered up to Kuukaku's shoulder, and they set off down the hallway again, Kuukaku gripping the bedsheet under the stump of her right arm where it had started to come undone. It occurred to her that Yachiru had not once commented on her lack of limb, instead choosing to chatter on about how she'd met "Ken-chan" and about the one time she'd drawn this or that.

Finally, they reached the spare room, Yachiru hopping down from Kuukaku's shoulder with ease. Kuukaku could tell that the girl was practiced at this: nonetheless, she wobbled and fell after landing on her feet, and looked utterly surprised at it.

"Bedsheet-san is shorter than Ken-chan," she stated, still seated.

"Yachiru-chan is a little bit sick from being out in the rain," Kuukaku said with a lopsided grin at the toddler, "but if you rest up and get better, I'm pretty sure you'll be able to make the jump next time."

"Oh. Okay," said Yachiru, rolling over so she could use her hands to push herself off the floor. "Ne, Bedsheet-san, could you open the door for me?" She rocked the wooden sliding door in its frame, "Ken-chan says I'm still not tall enough to open doors without jamming them up." The door in question was the one to the Kenpachi's room.

"No problem, kiddo," Kuukaku took hold of the door halfway up the frame and slid it easily back to allow Yachiru entry. "And it's Kuukaku, not Bedsheet-san," she said, as an afterthought.

"Ken-chaaaan!" Yachiru called, giving no sign that she'd heard Kuukaku, and she toddled off into the room. Kuukaku smiled and was about to turn away to go get breakfast (and a smoke...did she ever need a smoke right now),when Yachiru's worried pink head popped out around the doorframe.

"Bedsheet-san, Ken-chan's not here!"

Indeed, when Kuukaku peered in to the room, the man Zaraki was nowhere to be found. At Yachiru's ushering, she came in to the room and was made to search every corner, the night table and the wardrobe. Kuukaku surmised that the man must have gone outside - for whatever reason - but humoured Yachiru nonetheless. The little girl, though very concerned as to where the Kenpachi was, didn't seem to be too distraught, instead ordering Kuukaku to search here, or look there, in an oh-so-innocent bossy voice.

After five minutes, Kuukaku - on her knees, peering under the dresser, and trying valiantly to keep the bedsheet from slipping - decided it was time to call it quits and send the girl back to bed for the rest of the morning.

"He's not under there either, Yachiru-chan," she said, straightening up and attempting damage control on the bedsheet, which seemed to have given up entirely. "I think it's time -"

She was cut off by Yachiru's joyful squeal of "KEN-CHAAAN!", and the sound of the toddler scrambling over towards the doorway.


	4. Chapter 4

"Ken-chan? Where were you? Bedsheet-san and me couldn't find you aaaaanywhere, and then so I was gonna-"

"I'm here now, kid," Zaraki Kenpachi said, interrupting Yachiru. The pink-haired toddler didn't seem to mind, however, and, after a few attempts to scramble up to his shoulder, contented herself to hug her guardian's leg.

Kuukaku, whilst all this was happening, had straightened up, bedsheet slipping dangerously before she stood and hoisted it as best she could with her one arm. The man from Zaraki watched her impassively, then bent to scoop Yachiru into his arms. "What're you doing outta bed? Don't answer that; you're sick and you're gonna sleep." He strode out of the room, ignoring Yachiru's protests that she was feeling just fine.

Kuukaku, a little more than annoyed at her immediate dismissal, looked around the room; dawn light was beginning to filter through the windowscreen, reminding her of the time. She had almost forgotten: the halls and tunnels of her extensive underground house were well-lit and gave a sense of timelessness. She supposed she had better get dressed and start the day, as opposed to going back to bed.

On her way out into the hall, she nearly collided with Zaraki, who was emerging from Yachiru's room. Kuukaku held her ground under his inscrutable, yellow stare; he turned and closed the door of the girl's room, not stepping back either. When the impasse had stretched on past the point of comfortable silence, Kuukaku split her face in a cocky grin and nodded her head in approval. Mincing around her guest, she was halfway down the hall before she paused, and turned her head to say over her shoulder, "Breakfast's in half an hour, got it?"

Zaraki looked at her and nodded, expression still unreadable, his mouth a thin line. Kuukaku continued towards her room and, once inside, allowed herself a snort of laughter. _Ken-chan_ had also been bedsheet-clad.

After dressing and performing her morning ablutions - splash of water on the face and the back of the neck, hair sloppily tied back with her bandanna - she called for Shiroganehiko and Koganehiko to bring the guest some proper clothes, and then get breakfast. And make it snappy.

Breakfast was a silent affair, Kuukaku smoking in between sips of her black coffee - a gift from Yoruichi, brought from the living world; Kuukaku had become quite fond of it. Zaraki - dressed in castoffs of Kaien's (which, though plain, had obviously been massively altered by Shiroganehiko to fit the guest's size and stature), had eaten silently but ravenously at his end of the table. The wound on his face was healing fast, and Kuukaku had no doubts that the rest of his wounds were doing the same: one did not survive in Rukongai if recovery was not a fast thing. Kuukaku left him there, eventually, to go smoke outside; the room had been claustrophobic with Zaraki Kenpachi in it, though his reiatsu wasn't running totally wild and she herself had made use of her own as a shield. She could tell that he had only recently mastered the art of reiatsu control; bits of it kept slipping out and surging around the room. It was much more peaceful and quiet up by her cannon.

Ah, her cannon. She'd built it only a few years ago; Yoruichi had stopped by after it had been built and asked, _really, Kuukaku, did you need a giant phallus to go along with those giant breasts?_ She'd hit her friend, of course, and they'd sparred - carefully, though, always too carefully on Yoruichi's part. Kuukaku appreciated and loathed it at the same time; it hurt her pride, that Shihouin Yoruichi would treat her any less roughly because of a missing limb. Still, it made it easier to win. She wasn't above exploiting a weakness. Kuukaku shifted, a little restlessly; she missed Yoruichi, though she wouldn't admit it to herself. Nobody else around wanted to fight her - out of pity or fear or the simple fact that Kuukaku fought dirty, she was never sure - and of course those ponces at Soul Society were all too busy saving the world, or some shit. She'd never thought of being a Shinigami, even before her arm had been blown off: Kaien was the one with ideals, not her.

Something nudged in on her thoughts; the static surging and and buzzing a hard yellow. She didn't bother turning her head as the Kenpachi sat down beside her. He said nothing, so Kuukaku didn't either. She wondered fleetingly how much of the night before he remembered. He better have taken her little speech about who was boss to heart... and learn to master his reiatsu better. Her eye twitched; it was getting harder to breathe again, and the yellow buzz surged around the outskirts of her mind's eye, like a wasp in a windowless room. She'd gone outside to get away from this, damn it.

She was about to say something when Zaraki actually began to speak. Asked her a question, even.

"What do you want for it?" He didn't look at her, gaze averted to the house.

"Eh?" Kuukaku took the pipe out of her mouth, blowing a smoke ring.

"You said you ain't a charity. So whaddaya want for it?" He looked sideways and down at her, and gestured towards the house. Realization dawned on Kuukaku: when you've fought your way up from the eightieth, nothing comes for free. Not even if it's offered. That's just the way things work. She sized him up: he made her look small, even just sitting beside her, and Kuukaku did not consider herself to be a diminutive woman.

"Hnh," she said finally, drawing one last pull on the pipe and knocking the ashes out against the base of the cannon. "You any good at fighting?"

He gave her a stony stare. "What do you think?" Derision.

She matched him eye to eye. "You got the shit beaten outta ya." Scorn.

"'Least I still look like myself. Can't say that about the other guys." A statement, no pride. 

"Good," Kuukaku said, grinning. "Then fight me for it. You can earn your stay by entertaining me."

"Woman, I ain't fighting you," Zaraki said dismissively. "Y'only got one arm."

"And you're a mess from last night," Kuukaku countered, temper sparked by his comment. "I think the odds are fairly even, so to speak."

"I fight to the death, woman," he said, and was about to say more when Kuukaku cut him off.

"It's Shiba Kuukaku, Zaraki," she snarled irritably, thwocking him on the head with the bowl of her pipe, "and are you going to fight me or just keep making wussy excuses?"

There was a spike in Zaraki's reiatsu, and Kuukaku was quick to turn her grimace into a self-satisfied smirk. The man answered with a mirthless smile which bared his teeth, narrowing his right eye and causing the scab on the left to crack and bleed.

"We fight, then. Where?"

She got up and pointed to the house. "Under there. Let's go."


	5. Chapter 5

As soon as Koganehiko had shut the door to the underground training gym, Kuukaku reached behind her and whipped out her short sword, sweeping it upwards towards Zaraki's back: it met his sword, still half-sheathed, with a jarring clang.

Kuukaku grinned up at the man, whose eyes had widened considerably. "Keep your guard up, Kenpachi from Zaraki," she said, and began to throw her weight against the sword. "I fight dirty. The first one to pierce through flesh with a sword wins, that's the only rule." He wasn't budging from her pressure; she shouted an incantation.

"Way of Binding number one! Sai!" She felt the kidou move from her fingers and slam directly into Zaraki, then leapt backwards. Sai was a preliminary binding spell; she wasn't counting on it holding him for long, but it was the perfect way of judging his reiatsu strength.

She blinked, and the aura of kidou vanished. Zaraki had unsheathed his sword: its serrated edge flashed yellow, and he was grinning. It was the first time that Kuukaku had seen him express any sort of happiness - the empty smile of a few minutes before was a shadowy precursor to the sheer amount of raw pleasure in this teeth-baring grin. The hard yellow static on the edge of her perception, which had been surging erratically, expanded until it filled the room, and in the moment before she unleashed her own reiatsu, Kuukaku fought to breathe.

Her reiatsu, blue shot through with bursts of red, rose to meet the roaring monster of the man's aura, and the he turned to look at her.

"Out of curiosity," Kuukaku said, and brought something out of her pocket, solidifying her fighting stance for the attack she knew was coming, "how many men were there yesterday?"

Zaraki began to chuckle, mirth that crescendoed to a full-out, deep-chested laugh culminating in a lunge towards her, sword going for her unprotected right ribs. Kuukaku dropped what was in her hand and sprung sideways to meet him, sword clashing against his, and used the momentum to spring past him, giving a sharp cry as the firecracker she had left exploded, sending up a wall of sparks into Zaraki's face.

Already turning as she skidded to a halt behind him, Kuukaku could hear him swearing and grinned. She lunged to attack his unprotected back: he turned quickly, still dazed from the light of the firecracker, and Kuukaku was able to catch Zaraki's left shoulder before his sword met hers. The blow was enough to send her tumbling back about ten feet; she rolled and sprang upright. He was watching her. The gash her sword had left in his shoulder was - not even bleeding. The fabric over his left shoulder had been ripped and his skin marked by her sword, but barely, leaving a bright weal and Kuukaku cursed. She had felt the resistance of his immense reiatsu against her blade as she had tried to cut him: he wasn't invincible, not by a long shot, and at least now she knew she could. The stab wound in his right shoulder had reopened and begun to soak the shirt. Her fingers tingled: the shock of his blade against hers had caused her hand to go numb, and she flexed the muscles furiously, noting the beginnings of a deep bruise on the palm of her hand and her wrist.

She looked up to see a sword: she just barely managed to parry while the force of Zaraki's rush, though not able to break her stance, slid her backwards. He continued unrelentingly, that unholy grin on his face, until Kuukaku's heels touched the wall and in a split-second she had pushed her reiatsu between them like a shield. It relieved the pressure, but only a little.

"Fifteen." Kuukaku looked up at the giant bearing down on her: he was at the very least a foot taller than her, and she made up her mind that this fight couldn't be won by brute strength alone.

"Fifteen what?" She asked, only panting slightly, keeping the ragged edges of her scornful smile on her face, thinking furiously.

"Fifteen men, yesterday, woman," Zaraki said, "An' me with a baby in my arm." He bore down on her, and she shouted in his face.

"Disintegrate, black dog of Rondanini! Look upon yourself and burn; tear away your own throat! Way of Binding number nine! Geki!" Red light eclipsed the raging yellow storm around Zaraki Kenpachi, but Kuukaku found that her sword had been enveloped in the red light of binding as well - she could not get away and still retain her weapon. Fine, she thought. More kidou.

She'd only begun to say "Way of Destruction" before there was a splintering noise and the binding spell shattered, the red disintegrating before a furious onslaught of yellow. The Kenpachi's eyes were murderous and his smile elated, and for the first time Kuukaku wondered what she'd gotten herself into, feeling a little lightheaded.

"What is that shit you keep yelling?" The Kenpachi didn't increase the pressure, and Kuukaku narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

"Kidou. Demon magic," she said, and drew a ragged breath, shifting her stance ever so slightly. "They use it in Sereitei, it... focuses your reiatsu into an attacking force." This one could probably slaughter most of Sereitei if he mastered it, she realized, her own reiatsu struggling against the sheer weight of Kenpachi's. She had begun to think of him by his moniker, she realized. She dwelt on it for a very strange second, then shoved the thought aside, finally seeing her opening.

"Weakling stuff," Kenpachi was saying derisively, but she was already yelling.

"Way of Destruction number sixty-three! Raikuhou!" The lighting pooled in her palm and shot outwards, up the length of her sword and down Zaraki's, as well as straight out towards his chest. She could hear flesh sizzling, and for an instant, her opponent's eyes rolled up into his head, smile frozen on his face.

Mustering her strength, Kuukaku pushed suddenly upwards against Kenpachi's blade, both with her own strength and with her reiatsu. In the split second opening, she kicked out and upwards, connecting firmly with the place where his's legs came together.

His reiatsu stopped her. Kuukaku tried to stop her face from showing surprise as she saw Kenpachi's face grinning down at her: Kuukaku tried again, this time putting a substantial amount of reiatsu into the kick. She could actually see the pain register in Kenpachi's eyes for an instant, but it wasn't enough; her kick had been slowed down enough that she might as well have cuffed him on the shoulder. His grin turned positively sinister.

"Now yer gettin' the right idea," he said, and in one swift movement disengaged his sword from hers, pushed her against the wall with the sheer pressure of his reiatsu, and swiftly stabbed his blade through her right shoulder, pinning her to the wall of the gym. He really didn't need to say anything else.

"Ouch," she said, surprised and impressed, and sheathed her blade as Kenpachi stepped back, still holding the hilt of his own sword. "You win, Zaraki- _san_." She took his blade in her reiatsu-masked hand - the metal was still burning hot from her kidou, evidenced by the smell of her flesh cauterizing - and wrenched it out of her shoulder, making a small half-mocking bow as she did so.

They stood there, bleeding identically from right shoulders, Kuukaku grimacing a little with pain, Kenpachi reveling in it. _He probably gets off on it_ , she thought, smirking ever so slightly at her opponent's expense. 

She moved to walk away, but halted as Kenpachi began to speak.

"This Sereitei, what sorta place is it?"

"Fulla the nobility and spoilt brats," Kuukaku said, thinking of Yoruichi.

"Any of 'em use swords instead of that pansy-ass magic crap?"

"They've all got swords," she said. "You're bleeding on my floor," she pointed out.

He ignored that. "Some of 'em dress in black?"

"They all dress in black." She turned around to scrutinize him. "What're you getting at?"

"Fifteen men," he said, almost to himself, "All dressed in black, the same, and all with swords that could do weird shit."

Kuukaku felt something nudge at her brain, and she didn't like it. "You think Sereitei sent those men."

"They wanted Yachiru." He gave her an impassive glance. "I didn't stop t'ask questions."

_Might have been a good idea if you had._

The words hung in the air, unsaid but clearly there. Kuukaku walked out of the room, and Kenpachi followed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was while writing this chapter that plot happened upon it. I hadn't intended it to.


	6. Chapter 6

Kuukaku tapped her knee moodily with the bowl of her pipe. Shiroganehiko and Koganehiko exchanged nervous glances from their prostrate positions on the floor, and simultaneously gave a start as Kuukaku blew out an exasperated sigh.

"Who does that bitch think she is?" She said irately, almost to herself. "The one time I need information and she's nowhere to be found! Shihouin shmihouin; she's probably off fucking that annoying fruitcake from twelfth division!" She fixed her gaze directly on the two brothers again; they gave identical expressions of apprehension. "You're sure she's not in Soul Society?"

"Nowhere to be found, Kuukaku-sama!" Shouted Shiroganehiko.

"Her vice-captain was adamant, Kuukaku-sama!" Koganehiko proclaimed loudly.

Kuukaku sighed again and flicked her hand idly. "I want to know the minute she steps foot in Sereitei, boys. Did Kaien see you?"

"Yes, Kuukaku-sama! He sends his regards!"

"I don't suppose he knows anything about this, does he?" Kuukaku had little hope.

"No, Kuukaku-sama! He says to be careful, Kuukaku-sama; he is learning that the Thirteen Protection Squads are a very political place indeed!"

"Figures," Kuukaku said dryly. "I suppose they're drilling the facts into him that no, Sereitei girls aren't just gonna land in his lap the moment he sits down. Jidanbou know anything?"

"No, Kuukaku-sama!"

"Very well. You two can take the rest of the day easy." She emptied her pipe, tapping it carefully against the ashtray.

"Thank you, Kuukaku-sama!" They exited with haste.

Kuukaku leaned back on her pillows and refilled her pipe absently. If Ken- if Zaraki's story was true (and she didn't doubt it; he didn't look the type to bother with lies), then Sereitei was, once again, messing around with the afterlives of others. What did Yoruichi think she was trying to pull, going after a baby? Kuukaku racked her brains, trying to think of reasons why Sereitei would want Yachiru, but came up with nothing. She'd asked Zaraki to try and remember the features of his assailants, but it had been dark and the man had been half-blinded by the slash down his face with a kidou-laced sword. She wasn't going to bother looking for their corpses; they'd have long been looted by bandits and picked at by scavengers. No, the only way to get to the bottom of this was to ask Yoruichi: as the Captain of Sereitei's "band of ninjas", as Ganjyu liked to say, there was nobody else in all of Soul Society who knew as much about the goings-on of its inhabitants as Kuukaku's catlike friend.

And so she had a problem. Kuukaku was not going to send a man and a baby out in to Soul Society with full knowledge that a band of trained killers was there to hack them down and possibly abduct one or the both of them. If there was one thing to say about Shinigami, it was that they refused to back down and quit. Kenpachi was only one man: fantastically powerful his reiatsu may have been, but he'd eventually wear down under the constant attacks; Kuukaku wouldn't put it past Sereitei to concoct an elaborate ambush or trap scenario, either. 

Kenpachi and the kid would have to stay with Kuukaku until a solution was found, and, openminded though she might have been, Kuukaku could sense that the pair would not make a good addition to the household. The kid by herself, sure, she was likeable enough; Kuukaku could tell, however, that Yachiru would not ever willingly be parted with her adopted father. And the man himself would never fit with the Shiba clan: he somehow seemed to inhabit a different space entirely. The Shibas were rough since their fall from nobility, but they still retained vestiges of their legacy as the fourth noble house of Sereitei. They knew they were noble at heart, and didn't give a fuck what the rest of Soul Society said.

Kenpachi would never be noble, Kuukaku knew. He had a sort of twisted honour in his relationship with Yachiru, but Kuukaku knew the sight of a man too enamoured of the fight to even conceive of what others might think. His careless attitude came from a complete ignorance of anything to care about. The man was devoid of social awareness, and if he knew it, he didn't care about that either. He unsettled Kuukaku. And not just because he'd beaten her at a fight, either. She realized she was thinking of him as "Kenpachi" all the time now, and that unsettled her as well, but on a different level.

* * *

"Yachiru."

The pink-haired child looked up from where she had been colouring the floor, having run out of paper. She was still pale and looking peaky, her eyes bright.

"Ken-chan!" She rolled over and pushed herself up, wavered a moment, and then toddled over to where her best friend was standing in the doorway. "Yachiru felt your reiatsu and woke up, and there was paper so I started drawing your fight with Bedsheet-san, but I ran out of paper, so I used the bedpost!" She beamed up at him, pointing at various scenes of carnage splashed across the spare sheets of paper which Kuukaku had thoughtfully supplied.

"Pretty creative, Yachiru," Zaraki said, picking the girl up by the scruff of her shirt and depositing her back on the bed. "But ya gotta rest, 'kay? A warrior's no good if he's sick; being sick makes you weak. Stay in bed 'til you're not weak anymore, got it?"

Yachiru nodded sagely, but made a face at the end. "But sleeping is boooring, Ken-chan. Besides, it was you who woke me up!"

"Sorry, kid. I had a debt to pay." He sat down on the bed beside her.

"To Bedsheet-san?" Yachiru asked, crawling under the covers, but she didn't wait for an answer. "She's nice. And good at fighting."

"Yeah," said Zaraki. "Even if she does use that magic crap."

"She's still not as good as you, Ken-chan," said Yachiru knowledgeably, "She's pretty great. But not enough."

Zaraki didn't ask how Yachiru knew these things, any more than he asked about the floor, decorated with a single, unfinished image of Zaraki grinning ferociously as he pinned Kuukaku to the wall with his sword; Kuukaku's face was almost an exact mirror of her assailant's. The two figures were depicted in primary colour scribbles, not very detailed, but both were bleeding red crayon blotches from the exact same place on the shoulder.

"Get some sleep, kid."

"Don't wanna." Yachiru crossed her arms.

"What, you need a drink?"

"I'm _boooooored_ , Ken-chan!" Yachiru whined, seeing how much she could get away with, then squealed gleefully when Zaraki gave her a very pointedly annoyed look. He sighed.

"Look, howabout I get some more paper and crayons for ya? Then you can colour in bed."

"And a board." She said. "Otherwise the paper goes all holey when I try to colour in the best parts."

"Alright, and a board," Zaraki got up.

"Ne, Ken-chan?"

He paused on the way to the door. "Yeah?"

"Bedsheet-san is nice."

"You said that already," he said gruffly, turning to leave again, but didn't miss what his pink-haired ward said next.

"I mean she's _nice_ , Ken-chan. Trust me."


	7. Chapter 7

Zaraki was out of Yachiru's room before he remembered that he didn't know where to find Kuukaku. The house's underground hallways were seemingly endless, and he wasn't sure how Shiba always got the attention of her idiotically idiosyncratic servants, even if they were nowhere in sight beforehand. He sighed and ran his hand through his hair, being careful not to stretch the skin on his forehead, where the slash down his face was healing.

He was thankful for her kindness. He was thankful that she gave him the chance to fight his way out of repayment, because there was no way in hell that he'd ever be able to pay her back with money. She looked the type to know when it had been stolen, anyway. All the same, he wished that Yachiru hadn't gotten sick, so he could have found a barn to hide in and heal. The Shiba woman had given words to his suspicion, and that was the problem. Before, when the attackers had no reasons, no force behind them, no uniformity, he could ignore them without drawing conclusions, and keep existing as he and Yachiru had always existed. Together, in the moment. But now that there was a purpose for the attacks, and that purpose was Yachiru... Zaraki felt that he was being forced to walk a road between walls which had not before existed, coming to close in around him.

He shook his head and decided to go outside before seeing Shiba about crayons: it was getting claustrophobic.

* * *

Kuukaku was rubbing her temples and smoking like a wet woodfire when there came a knock at her door. Hauling herself upright, she said, "Yeah?"

It was Kenpachi who drew back the door and stepped inside. He did not bow, but came to the centre of the room and sat before her.

"It's about Yachiru," he said, sounding bored.

"Oh? Is she alright?" Kuukaku asked, if the toddler had taken a sharp turn for the worse, it might suggest something more than a fever at work.

"Che. She's fine. She can't sleep though, and she ran outta paper for colouring. She wants to colour in bed, too, so she needs a board to stick the paper on, or else she can't colour it properly."

"Ah." Kuukaku grinned, failing to be intimidated into solemnity as Kenpachi stared across the room at her. "Yeah, sure. Koganehiko can help with that."

"Hai, Kuukaku-sama!" Shouted the lackey from his prostrate position behind Zaraki, where he most definitely had not been a moment before. Zaraki decided not to think about it.

"Well, get on it!" Kuukaku was saying, and suddenly they were alone in the room again. Zaraki was getting up to leave when his host's voice stopped him.

"Zaraki. Stay a moment."

He sat down again, managing to look both interrogative and intimidating at the same time.

"I've got a contact in Sereitei," she said, keeping her face deliberately impassive. "I may be able to find things out. We -"

Zaraki never found out what she was implying with the "we", because at that moment, a powerful reiatsu seemed to appear, almost out of thin air, outside the door: before either of them could do anything, the door was knocked back, and a naked woman strode in to the room.

"Kuukaku, you sneaky bitch! You sent your servants out to look for me? They couldn't find me if I was standing right in front of _Why hello there_ ," the woman noticed Zaraki halfway through her ranting at Kuukaku, and paused deliberately, sizing him up. "Kuukaku, that's quite the catch. Where'd you find him?"

"My front yard," Kuukaku said. "And don't you ever wear clothes?"

The woman looked down at herself. "Well I wasn't expecting company," she said in an aggrieved tone, "but if I must..."

"My room's the next door down the hall," Kuukaku sighed. "Go find something that fits."

"Like you have anything that would fit," the woman snorted, gesturing towards Kuukaku's breasts, but she left anyways.

Kuukaku turned to Zaraki. "My apologies," she said, smiling wryly. Zaraki, whose face had reverted to its usual stony demeanor the moment the woman had burst in, said nothing, but inclined his head as if to say, _it's not your fault_.

The woman came in again, this time dressed in an oversized kimono, which she wore like a robe. She plopped down near the right wall of the room, between Kuukaku and Zaraki. Turning to Zaraki, she flashed him a toothy smile.

"Sorry about that. I'm used to being alone with Kuukaku, here. I'm Shihouin Yoruichi, commander of the Sereitei special forces, and Captain of the Second Squad of the Thirteen Protection Squads."

"Zaraki Kenpachi," he said, face still impassive.

"Yoruichi here is our Sereitei contact," Kuukaku said, tapping her pipe bowl in her palm.

"Wait, 'our'? 'Contact'?" Yoruichi looked from Zaraki to Kuukaku and back again with narrowed eyes, her voice taking on a slightly edged tone. "What's going on here, Kuukaku?"

"Zaraki-san came here during that thunderstorm a few night's back," Kuukaku began to explain. "He's got a kid with him: little tiny girl named Yachiru. He'd been attacked by shinigami."

Zaraki, uncomfortable with the straight honorific, shifted under Yoruichi's sudden re-evaluating stare.

"Shinigami?" She asked, not taking her eyes off of Zaraki. "You're sure?"

"They wore black and used strange swords," he said.

"Kidou-based, it sounds like," Kuukaku interjected, and Yoruichi looked around at her. "You know anything about this, Yoruichi? Extra patrols in Rukongai? Missions to different Rukongai districts?"

Yoruichi rubbed her chin. "I'd have to go through intelligence reports looking for that specifically," she said pensively. "Whoever's doing it, they're being quiet about it, because it hasn't been mentioned at a captains' meeting, nor have I had anyone contact me specifically about unusual behaviour to that effect." She turned her gaze quite suddenly on Zaraki once again. "Do you know why they were attacking you?"

Zaraki hesitated, the "no" already half-formed in his mouth. Yachiru trusted the Shiba woman. If the Shiba woman trusted this captain, he would extend that trust. But only for Yachiru's sake.

"Yeah," he said. "It's because of Yachiru."

Yoruichi looked quizzically at Kuukaku, who explained, "His ward; the little girl."

"Ah. Do you know why they're after her, and not you?" The dark-skinned woman asked, and her look shifted to one of appraisal. "They could be targeting your strength. Have any old rivals?"

"I have no memory." Zaraki said simply. "And they're targeting Yachiru because she knows things." He didn't elaborate.

Yoruichi continued to stare at Zaraki, who returned her look with one that spoke of stone walls. High ones. She wanted to see through him, and he'd be damned if he'd let her.

"Alright," Yoruichi said at last. "I'm going to go through the records back in Sereitei, and maybe post a few of my squad to look over the rest of them."

"It's not the thirteenth," Kuukaku said pensively. "Kaien may be an idiot but he's keen. He notices things, and he hasn't seen anything like what we're looking for."

"Ukitake's a good man," Yoruichi agreed. "But I'm not going to let anything go unnoticed."

"Che." Both women turned to look at Zaraki, who had uttered the contemptuous sound. He raised his eyes to look at Kuukaku; they glinted yellow. "This is wasting time, an' Shiba hospitality," he said. "I've paid for Yachiru's time here, 'til she heals, but after that, I'm leanin' on you like a crutch. You can't fight when you're dependent on something to hold you up."

"So you're just gonna leave?" Kuukaku's half-smile turned dangerous. "What's your plan, Zaraki-san?"

"Simple," the large man rumbled. "I take Yachiru and we leave. Then she" - he jerked his head at Yoruichi - "sends her guys to watch over us. We're bound to be attacked again, and that way you can single out who they are."

Kuukaku lifted an eyebrow. "You sure? They're bound to send more attackers; higher level of skill, too, after last time. You think you can handle it?"

A feral grin spread its way across Zaraki's face, and Yoruichi nearly shuddered. "Only one way to find out," he said.


	8. Chapter 8

Yoruichi sat facing Kuukaku. Kenpachi had left, ostensibly to check on Yachiru. Yoruichi waited until his footsteps had faded out of earshot before opening her mouth to speak, but Kuukaku cut her off.

"No."

"What?" A sly grin had materialized on Yoruichi's face, belying her innocent question.

"You know. And the answer is no, I haven't. He hasn't; I haven't; we haven't. And it's not likely. Stop grinning like that; you look like that fool Urahara."

"Still, don't you wish it would happen between you two?" Yoruichi quirked a purple eyebrow at Kuukaku, who ignored her.

"When can you be ready with a team to observe them?"

Yoruichi snorted. "A team? Please, Kuukaku: you've involved me personally, and I know most of Sereitei by sight, though you wouldn't think it. I think that I will be enough, and I can go incognito. The kid'll love me."

"Don't you have work to be doing? Reports, paperwork, training?" Kuukaku took a drag on her pipe. "You know, all those things that keep you so busy whenever I ask you to help me with a fireworks display?"

"Nah," Yoruichi said nonchalantly. "I can pass them off on to my Vice; she'll do a good job with them. I don't anticipate that there will be much waiting time: as soon as Zaraki brings the kid out into the open, they'll attack; they'll think he'll still be weakened. Plus his reiatsu's pretty much haywire," the woman added, almost to herself.

"It is rather strong," Kuukaku commented. "I'd say it's almost captain-level. It could be if he was able to contain it, that is."

Yoruichi gave Kuukaku a sharp look. "Silly bitch, it's far above captain level. Or have you forgotten your prize Shiba reiatsu dampeners? The moment he steps off of this property, he'll shine like a small sun: I can tell he has about zero control."

Kuukaku scowled; she had in fact taken for granted the reiatsu dampeners she kept buried around the property, but she didn't mention that to Yoruichi. They were Shiba family heirlooms, and she had lived in the same place for so long that she hadn't bothered to think about where they were. They cut the reiatsu of any person on the property in half; a safety precaution which was a holdover from days long past, when the Shibas entertained even their enemies with ceremony. Kuukaku had grown used to their effect, and she was so good at mastering her own reiatsu as it was that she hardly felt a difference. If Kenpachi had noticed, he hadn't said anything. Yoruichi was right; he only had the most minimal control over his own spiritual energy.

Yoruichi, who had been watching Kuukaku's face, leaned forward. "Maybe before he goes, you should teach him a couple things about leashing that energy."

Kuukaku grunted noncommittally, dodging the innuendo. "That depends on how much time we have before they leave. I don't wanna send them out there until the girl is over her fever. You wouldn't be able to bring anything for her from Sereitei? I was never much good at healing."

"I can see what Unohana has," Yoruichi said, and stood up. "I'm going to go back now, and hand things over to Soi Fon for the moment. I'll stop by Fourth Division for you, and be back within the hour." She gave Kuukaku a sparkling grin. "Won't it be nice? We can have a sleep-over and everything! It'll be just like old times."

With a wink, she was gone, leaving Kuukaku to grumble at an empty room.

* * *

"Here."

Zaraki caught the sphere in both hands, surprised, and looked up to see Kuukaku striding towards him across the grass. She sat down beside him at the base of the giant chimney. Yoruichi, true to her word, had returned with healing magic from Unohana; that had been yesterday, and Yachiru's fever had broken that night. Kuukaku didn't know what the girl's recovery time would be, but figured she might as well try and teach Kenpachi a couple of things with however much time they had left.

"I knew you'd be out here," she remarked, balancing her weight on her left arm and wiggling to get herself comfortable. "Know why?"

"No, why?" Zaraki asked, splitting his attention between her and the orb that he held in his hands. It seemed to be made out of a clear, hard substance like glass, but did not have any of the fragility that a glass object should hold.

"Because you're noisy," Kuukaku said, settling into a cross-legged sitting position. "Not physically, but in terms of your reiatsu. That's how, out of all of Rukongai, your assailants were able to pick you out."

"So what?" he said, returning his gaze to the sphere.

"So maybe you should think about learning how to put a dampener on your spiritual energy," Kuukaku said. "You can hide your presence, or even focus it to use it as a weapon -"

"Like your magic crap?" Zaraki gave her a withering look. "I don't need that."

Kuukaku's temper flared. "Have it your way, cocky bastard. But I nearly beat you using kidou, and I'm a single one-armed woman. What're you gonna do when whoever it is that wants Yachiru sends out kidou experts? 'Cause he will, believe me."

Zaraki didn't reply, just continued to stare at the sphere, turning it around in his hands. Kuukaku waited for a few moments, and then spoke up.

"Imagine there's a hole in it, and stuff as much of your reiatsu in there as you can. It'll help you focus it."

He looked at her, and it was a question. Kuukaku reached over and plucked the orb from Zaraki's hands, holding it up in front of her. "Like this," she said, and was suddenly encased in a sphere of soft, glowing blue; she hovered several inches off the base of the cannon. Then, just as suddenly, it disappeared, and Kuukaku deposited the orb back in Zaraki's lap.

"Try it," she said, sitting back, and she would have folded her arms challengingly had she two to fold.

Zaraki concentrated. There was a hum and, without warning, Kuukaku's ears popped, as if a pressure vacuum had opened up. Before her eyes, a sphere of energy formed around Zaraki, growing more and more intense with every passing moment. His eyes were shut in concentration, oblivious to the fact that he was floating just off the ground. A whine, which had been barely imperceptible before, crescendoed, until Kuukaku didn't think her ears could take anymore: it ground in her temples and made her teeth ache.

"Kuuuuuukakuuuuuuu!"

The orb splintered and Zaraki fell a few centimeters with a thump as shards flew everywhere. Yoruichi halted a few feet away, looking astonished, and Kuukaku lowered her hand from where she had flung it to protect her face from the shards. There was one embedded in her forearm: she used her teeth to wrench it out.

"Good job," she said calmly to Zaraki, spitting the bloody shard to the grass. "You're learning. Now try to do that without the orb. Make a space and fill it with your reiatsu: it'll concentrate it and make it harder for others to detect you. Only try not to blow things up this time."

Yoruichi walked a few steps forward, mindful of the glass. "Kuukaku, the kid's awake. She's asking for Zaraki: she looks pretty chipper."

"Already?" Kuukaku was a little surprised.

"She ain't weak," Zaraki spoke up, of his own volition, surprising Kuukaku further. "We can probably leave this afternoon."


	9. Chapter 9

Zaraki left the next morning, Yachiru on one shoulder, Yoruichi as a cat on the other. Kuukaku stood and watched them leave, and then spent the rest of the day in her workshop with the fireworks. That was the first day.

On the second day, Kuukaku dug up all the reiatsu dampeners from around her property and brought them to her workshop.

On the third day, she sent Shiroganehiko and Koganehiko scouting for a wide open space around the other side of Sereitei.

On the fourth day it rained, and Kuukaku spent her time in the workshop with kidou instead of gunpowder.

It was on the morning of the fifth day that Yoruichi appeared once again at the entrance to the Shiba household. She was in human form, wearing shinigami robes and drying patches of blood that did not belong to her. In her right hand she held firmly the wrist of a small, scared-looking youth. Shiroganehiko and Koganehiko did not appear as she made her way across the lawn, but Kuukaku stood up to meet her.

"Kuukaku." Yoruichi's tone was clipped. "I believe this is yours." She brought the boy forward so that he stood in front of her.

"Ah, Ganjyu," Kuukaku began, but he didn't look at her, and Yoruichi looked at her tersely. "Go wash up; you're filthy," she changed what she was going to say, giving him an affectionate push on the shoulder.

"Hai, nee-san," he muttered, turning to leave, but hesitated. "Nee-san, I - I'm sorry!" he blurted out before running for the house.

Kuukaku's face, solemn before, took on a grim cast. She looked a question at Yoruichi, who, in response, tossed a hand-sized object at Kuukaku's face. Catching it, the Shiba clan-head turned it over. It was a badge.

"Eleventh division," she commented, and looked up at Yoruichi.

"I knew him," Yoruichi said, impassively. "Not well, of course. He was a good fighter; he deserved vice-captain rank."

"What happened, Yoruichi?" Kuukaku asked, deadly serious. "Where's Zaraki and the girl? And what does my brother have to do with all of this?"

"I'll make it short, because I don't have much time," the woman said. "We were ambushed in the 56th district, just after nightfall. No clue why Zaraki'd decided to head that way. It was raining pretty heavily, and we were looking for shelter. They hit Zaraki and the girl with binding kidou; I was able to avoid it, and they weren't aiming for a cat, anyways. The rain was loud, and I couldn't hear or see much of anything. There was a lot of confusion... from what I've managed to piece together, the binding spells mostly bounced off Zaraki anyway, and began to fight back. They'd surrounded him, but he was holding his own, until one of them grabbed Ganjyu, out of nowhere."

"He has friends in the 56th," Kuukaku interjected. "He probably saw a fight and wanted to watch; he loves that kind of thing."

"Well, he got more than his share of view, because one moment Zaraki was going beserk, fighting his way out, and the next he's presented with a boy in front of his sword, and he hesitated. They hit him with enough kidou to damage him, grabbed the girl, and shunpo'd off."

Kuukaku let out a breath that she didn't know she'd been holding. "So that explains Ganjyu. And Yachiru-chan. Where's Zaraki?"

"That's the reason we don't have much time," Yoruichi said, and suddenly transformed into her feline self. "He just gave me a look, and went pelting off after the shinigami. I don't think he knows how to use shunpo, and he was injured and tired. He's probably around tenth district by now, if he ran all night. But he's gotta rest."

"He's not planning on breaking in to Sereitei..." Kuukaku said disbelievingly, but then caught Yoruichi's eye. "No... you know, I actually think he might be. I wonder why that kid is so special to him?"

"Maybe you should ask why that kid is so special to everyone else," Yoruichi commented, extricating herself from the robes she had been wearing, and beginning to pad off across the lawn, towards the house. "Follow me. You're going to start packing."

"For what?" Kuukaku said, an edge in her voice. Yoruichi was forgetting just whose house it was.

The cat stopped and sat, looking back over her shoulder. "Kuukaku, this isn't time for a pissing match. I'm going back to Sereitei to confront Toyoma Hatori, the eleventh division captain. I need you to find Zaraki and keep him from getting killed trying to get into Sereitei in the first place. Lead him to Jidanbou's gate, if you can't stop him. You could probably talk Jidanbou into letting him in."

Kuukaku began walking towards the house. "And what will be the result of all this? You'll make the captain say he's very sorry and give the girl up? Zaraki will walk up all nice and polite and ask for Yachiru-chan back?"

"I don't know, Kuukaku," Yoruichi sighed, her cat's voice sounding very weary and aggrieved. "At the least, I'll take Toyoma-taichou up before Room 46: he's been conducting covert ops without the knowledge of other captains, or at the very least the special forces, and that's my territory he's trespassing on. Your job is to keep Zaraki from ryoka status: he doesn't want to be an enemy, or else all of Sereitei will be after him."

Kuukaku, who had reached the doors of the house, turned around to say something, but Yoruichi had already left. A faint breeze stirred the grass.

The head of the Shiba clan entered her household, mentally compiling a list of things she needed, and nearly tripped over Ganjyu, dressed in a towel and heading towards the bath.

"Ah, nee-san!" The boy stumbled back a few paces, clutching his towel and looking apprehensive. Kuukaku opened her mouth to speak, but Ganjyu plowed ahead, seemingly determined to get something off his chest. "Nee-san, what happened back there with Yoruichi-sama and the warrior... I'm sorry! I just wanted to see the shinigami, but I messed up and got caught, and it's all my fault that the girl got kidnapped and _I'm so sorry_!" He ended in a wail.

Kuukaku, recognizing self-recrimination when she saw it, squatted until her face was level with her little brother's, and put her hand on his head, mussing his hair affectionately. "Hey, hey, don't cry, sissy. It's not your fault, so don't go taking credit for it, okay? Yoruichi-san and I are going to fix it, don't worry."

Ganjyu sniffed a little. "Promise?"

"Yeah kid, I promise." Kuukaku stood up and began walking again, but halted at Ganjyu's voice.

"Er, nee-san... the shinigami? It wasn't... I mean, Aniki wasn't with them, right?" His voice, trembling at first, got stronger as his loyalty to his idolized older brother began to come through. "Aniki would never, ever do something like that to anyone, right? So he couldn't have been with them, right, nee-san?" His voice was hopeful.

"No, Ganjyu. Kaien would never do that." Kuukaku said, feeling older than her years. "He's... shinigami are just human, kiddo. Some are good guys, like Kaien. Some are bad guys, like the ones that tried to use you as a shield. Kaien's in another division, anyways," she added, "so he definitely wasn't there. Now go bathe; you smell."

"Hai!" Ganjyu trotted away, and Kuukaku put her mind back to the task at hand, very conscious of the time. It was best to travel light, anyway.


	10. Chapter 10

Kuukaku found Kenpachi after half a day of searching. More accurately, she found Kenpachi's reiatsu after half a day of searching the area around the 10th district. Focusing her own reiatsu, Kuukaku was able to follow the ebb and flow of the invisible yellow cloud to its centre, where the man lay sprawled under a discarded awning in an old alleyway. Sighing, Kuukaku sat at the mouth of the alley, content to wait until he woke, confident in Yoruichi's ability to watch over Yachiru in Sereitei. For now, she needed to make sure Kenpachi wouldn't get himself killed before Yoruichi could negotiate this disaster.

While she waited, Kuukaku gazed at the man appraisingly. He had several shallow wounds running up both arms, but they had already scabbed over. His sword was still gripped in his tightly closed fist. He was surprisingly unharmed, for having been ambushed by a vice-captain and a sizeable squad: Kuukaku put it down to the increased intensity of his reiatsu, which pulsed wildly, flickering like chain-lighting around his body. And that was with the effect of one of the Shiba reiatsu-dampeners: Kuukaku had brought the small stone along with her, yet still ended up having to consciously maintain her reiatsu on the offensive to withstand the enormous pressure of Kenpachi's spiritual energy. He looked no less threatening when asleep, she noted; many people looked younger when in the grips of unconsciousness, but it seemed as if Kenpachi had had no youth to speak of, and therefore was denied innocence even when relaxed. Kuukaku felt a sort of grim appreciation for that.

It was late in the afternoon when Kenpachi awoke. Kuukaku watched with a shadowed face, her form silhouetted by the dying rays of the sun, as the man sat up, blinking and looking around.

"Ya-" he stopped, and Kuukaku felt his reiatsu - which had been unfocused and cloudy before - sharpen and harden with purpose as he caught sight of her, eyes narrowed.

"Hoi, Zaraki," she said, getting up. "You're injured."

"Doesn't matter," he said, nevertheless taking stock of his arms, then using his sword to lever himself up until he stood, towering over Kuukaku once again. "Stand aside, woman."

"I have a name," Kuukaku ground out, "and you're not going anywhere until you're healed."

Kenpachi took a few steps forward, until she was glaring at his chest, and looked down at her. "This ain't your house anymore, Shiba, and I'm healing already. Now get out of my way; I don't need yer hospitality."

Kuukaku, refusing to be intimidated, gripped her sword hilt, tilting her head back to stare into Kenpachi's face. "You wanna live to see Yachiru again? You're going to Sereitei, pal: those shinigami you fought were a fraction of one squad. And there are thirteen squads, all of whom will see you as a trespassing enemy if you just barge in there."

"Che." He turned his head sideways with a bored expression. Kuukaku fought back the urge to slap him with the flat of her sword.

"You're right; this ain't my property, so you're free to take my advice or leave it," she said, "but I know people who can help you, Zaraki. And you'd be a fool to throw that away." She took her hand off of her sword, and turned to lean against the mouth of the alley.

He looked directly at her again, this time searchingly. "And what do you get out of this?" he asked. "What d'you gain by helping me and Yachiru? You said yourself you ain't the type for charity, Shiba."

"Maybe I'm the type for a good time when I see one," Kuukaku shrugged. "Maybe I like a little excitement in my life." _Maybe I care_. 

He didn't seem to buy her answer, but Kuukaku wasn't about to say anything else, and remained staring up at him challengingly.

"All right," he said finally. "How far is it from here to Sereitei?"

"Running? It's another day. But with shunpo we can get there before morning."

"Shunpo?" Kenpachi said, with a dry look. "Is this more of that kidou crap?"

"In a way," Kuukaku grinned. "Watch." And she disappeared.

* * *

Dawn was breaking when Kuukaku halted just outside of Jidanbou's gate. A moment later, Kenpachi blurred into view, a few paces to her left. He wasn't panting, exactly, but Kuukaku could tell that the newly-learned shunpo had taken its toll on him. He stood, looking up at the high, white walls of Sereitei: the gate was closed. Kuukaku wasn't sure whether this was a bad sign or not; surely Yoruichi had managed to do something about this mess?

"Wait here," she told Kenpachi. "I think we'll be able to get in."

She began walking forward, and stopped a few paces from where she approximated the gate to be. "Oi! Jidanbou!" she hollered, to nowhere in particular, her voice sounding particularly loud in the early-morning silence. "It's Kuukaku! Get out here!"

There was a moment where nothing happened, and then the next the earth was rocking with the impact of Jidanbou's arrival. Kuukaku windmilled her left arm frantically, having lost her balance, and was about to fall on her ass when she was caught from behind by Jidanbou's enormous hand. Bracing herself, she grinned into the giant's concerned face.

"Long time no see, Jidanbou. How're things in Sereitei?"

"Ahhh, Kuukaku-san," the gatekeeper shook his head, a tragic look on his face as he set her gently upright. "Things aren't going very well, no not at all." He sighed.

"What is it?" Kuukaku demanded, "Is it about Yoruichi? How is the eleventh division? What's happening?"

"I am only the gatekeeper, Kuukaku-san," Jidanbou rumbled, "so I do not know perhaps as much as you would like. For certain, the only thing I know is -" he stopped suddenly and frowned. "Kuukaku-san," he said slowly, "what happened to your arm?"

"I had an accident," she said shortly. She didn't feel like discussing it, especially not now, as Kenpachi had come to loom behind her once Jidanbou had landed, in order to better hear the conversation. "What do you know, Jidanbou?"

"Oh," the giant switched gears again. "I am not to open the gate for Kuukaku-san, as long as she keeps company with the _ryoka_ ," he said, as if reading it from a slate, and looked at her apologetically.

Kuukaku's eyes narrowed. "On whose orders?"

"I can't tell you that, Kuukaku-san," Jidanbou said, then put up his hands hastily, "Following orders, Kuukaku-san! I can let you pass... but not the man. He has to stay."

"Well then I'll fight you for it," Kuukaku started as Kenpachi's voice came from just behind her shoulder. "If I win, you have to open the gate. I think it's only fair."

Kuukaku turned around to face Kenpachi. "You're not fighting Jidanbou," she said firmly; "he's my friend, and it'll waste time."

Jidanbou was looking at Kenpachi. "I may fight you, ryoka," said the giant, "but what happens if you lose? You haven't mentioned that."

A dangerous gleam entered Kenpachi's eye, and Kuukaku gathered her reiatsu instinctively. "I won't lose, giant," Kenpachi said with a half-smile, gripping his sword hilt and dropping in to a fighting stnace.

Kuukaku looked between the two in irritation. "Did you not just hear what I said? There will be no fighting!" She walked towards Jidanbou. "Alright, you're bound by your duty not to let us through the gate. Would you help us over the wall?"

"K-Kuukaku-san!" Jidanbou said, distracted from his impending confrontation with Zaraki. "I could help you to stand on the parapet, but it will do you no good: the walls are made of SekiSeki; the dome of reiatsu is impenetrable!"

"But you don't have a problem with lifting us up there, do you?" Kuukaku said, grinning. "It's not like you're opening the gate. And if it's impenetrable, you don't have to worry about us getting in at all."

Jidanbou shook his head, looking mournful. "You have something up your sleeve, Kuukaku-san, I know it. And you will get into trouble again. But you are right: I would not be going against my orders." He lowered his hand to the ground, and Kuukaku hopped on to it.

"Kenpachi, follow me," she instructed, and his frown deepened.

"Friend ryoka, our battle is interrupted," Jidanbou rumbled, "But perhaps later we may meet for a rematch."

Kenpachi nodded a grudging assent, sheathed his sword, and climbed on to Jidanbou's palm. The giant, careful to keep his hand steady, lifted them high into the air over his head and deposited the two on top of Sereitei's wall.

"Thank you, Jidanbou," Kuukaku said, looking down at the giant. "We'll just move along down the wall now,"

"Good-bye, Kuukaku-san," Jidanbou said. "I didn't see you."


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize that with the most recent arc, more of Zaraki's backstory and thus the identity of the former 11th division captain has been revealed. This was written a long time before that, on pure speculation. I imagine Toyoma Hatori as a sort of Remus Lupin lookalike: very aged for being so young, and very concerned. He's aware of what he is, and he doesn't like it... so he's going to change, no matter what it takes.

Yachiru was sulking. She had woken up about half an hour earlier, in a room she didn't recognize, and she didn't know how she'd gotten there. The pink-haired child was unalarmed by this, however; she often woke up in places she didn't recognize, as Ken-chan would find a place to stay after she'd fallen asleep on his shoulder. There was a vague memory of rain and steel in her mind, but she brushed that away: Ken-chan always won, anyway. What irked her was that Ken-chan was nowhere to be found, and the door was locked from the outside. The room was big, and besides from her bed, there was a table with crayons and paper on it, but nothing else.

Yachiru had spent the time waiting for Ken-chan preoccupied with colouring, but now she was getting bored and impatient. And hungry. Every once in a while, she could hear someone walk past her room, see their silhouette through the thin paper walls, but it was never anyone she recognized.

Perhaps Ken-chan was lost? Perhaps this was a giant building, and Ken-chan was all the way at the other end, or didn't know where Yachiru was without her directions? Poor Ken-chan... Yachiru toddled over to the door and attempted to open it again. It stayed firmly shut, and Yachiru pouted in annoyance. She hadn't wanted to break the pretty paper walls, but that seemed to be the only option, now.

She was about to push her hand through the paper screen of the door when footsteps echoed loudly down the hall, the approaching reiatsu troubled and preoccupied; a deep, velvety blue colour, frayed at the edges. Yachiru sat and used her crayon to draw on the floor as a tall, slim man dressed in black and white drew back the door.

She looked up at him and smiled winningly. "Hallo there!"

The man, startled by the voice so close to his feet, looked down sharply. A strange expression crossed his face but was quickly erased as careworn lines settled in to place, looking odd on a man not much older than Zaraki himself. "Hallo, little one," he said, shutting the door firmly behind him.

"Have you seen Ken-chan?" Yachiru asked, her eyes wide and innocent. "I think he's lost."

"Ah," the man said, and sat on the floor across from Yachiru, to better look her in the eye. "Yes, I - Ken-chan is busy right now, but he's probably on his way here."

"Oh. Okay." Yachiru went back to her drawing, apparently unconcerned. The man drew in a breath, conscious that he had to navigate this conversation very carefully in order for the girl to co-operate. If it was true about her, that she could sense the truth in every word and see... but he would find that out soon enough. He reminded himself to be patient, despite the fact that he had a time limit. He had lost so many troops, he had waited this long; he could wait a little longer to execute this, his only hope for escape, with utmost delicacy.

"What's your name, little girl?" He asked, barely managing to catch her attention: she looked up at him swiftly, then went back to drawing.

"Kusajishi Yachiru," she said, scribbling extra hard around a knot in the floorboard. "Why, what's yours?"

"I'm Toyoma Hatori. You can call me Hatori-san," he said. There was a pause, then, "What are you drawing, Yachiru-chan?"

"Ken-chan," she smiled to herself, still focused on the picture. "I can draw him really good; I like drawing Ken-chan."

"Do you ever draw anyone other than Ken-chan?" Hatori asked, and Yachiru raised her head, meeting his dark eyes with her own bright ones in a solemn glance.

"I used up the paper on the table," she said, "I can draw other people on the paper, 'coz it's easier to draw on paper."

Hatori got to his knees and, turning, knelt at the table. Sure enough, the papers he had laid out for her had all been filled with childish drawings of men and women fighting, bright scrawls of colour swirling around and in-between figures. He gathered them up and turned around again to face Yachiru, who was colouring something in, her tongue poking out of her mouth in concentration.

Hatori, about to say something, hesitated. The doubts surged back, full-force, and a sudden, paralyzing uncertainty gripped him: was he doing the right thing? What if he was playing along; what if they expected him to keep the girl, to not hand her over? Damn them! He was sick of being anticipated, sick of being under another's thumb. He had to go through with this: he had to get out. And to do that, he needed power. And to get power, he needed the girl. But what did she know? Something, certainly. Otherwise they would not need her so badly.

A lilting voice rang through his head: _"She's just a kid, Hatori-kun. No need to fret... an' once we have her, we c'n finally break through this last barrier...we c'n find out how to unleash that power. But we need you to get 'er first."_

Yachiru hummed to herself as she drew, paying no attention to Hatori's agonized silence. Hatori-san had not been lying when he'd said Ken-chan was on his way, but he hadn't been telling her the whole truth. Perhaps he knew that Ken-chan was lost, and wasn't helping him at all? That wasn't very nice of Hatori-san. She finished the last little details, and rocked back, looking up at Hatori-san. He had a funny look on his face, and was holding her drawings. She felt very sorry for him, all of a sudden: he needed someone to be nice to him.

"D'you like my drawings, Hatori-san?" she asked, and crawled over to sit beside him, looking at the pictures over his arm.

"Ah, yes," he blinked a couple of times, and reshuffled the drawings. "Yachiru-chan... who is this, in this picture?" He pointed at a stick-figure with square glasses and a smile. It was standing on top of a pile of... bloody things. They weren't human, but they weren't hollow, either.

Yachiru looked at the picture for a while, then shrugged. "Dunno," she said, and then pointed to another stick-figure, off in a corner of the page. "But that's you, Hatori-san."

The little stick-figure was holding a sword, and had a cloud of purple around him. Hatori frowned... his reiatsu was blue, not purple. Beside his little figure was another, with silver hair and a big smile... Ichimaru Gin. Hatori's gut clenched as he recognized Aizen Sousuke's vice-captain, whose sword was extended over his own little avatar's head.

"You're not yourself, are you, Hatori-san?" Yachiru asked, and the innocent question unsettled the captain deeply.

Hatori forced a smile. "Well, maybe I don't look exactly like this picture in real life," he said evasively, and switched up the papers. The picture now on top was of Hatori, captain's cloak flying, near what looked like a house in the mortal realm. There was a dead body in shinigami clothes at his feet, the comical x's of the eyes almost drawing away from the vicious expression on Hatori's face. Yachiru was silent.

_He remembered the scream. He remembered saying "It is for the greater good," and knowing it wasn't. He could feel the blood - of his son, of his SON - running over the hilt and down his wrist, the sick hatred and self-loathing that welled up like bile in his throat, and the wet, choking coughs of the dying man - oh God, his own son! - blocked up his ears as he walked away...on to the next one, the latest shinigami who had discovered too much. He was a sword, caked with gore, and all that awaited him in Sereitei was a benevolent voice - telling him to kill again - and a malevolent smile - telling him that it was okay. He'd joined for power, to surpass his peers: he wondered bitterly if it counted as surpassing because his peers were all dead. He made the decision then: he had to get out. Would that he had made it sooner._

The eleventh division captain let out a short breath. Aizen, though convinced of the girl's prophetic powers, hadn't mentioned that the girl could see into peoples' pasts. Why would he have kept this secret? Unless... unless Aizen didn't know... Hatori felt a wild rush. Perhaps he could work this to his advantage, after all... if he kept the girl with him, away from Aizen, who knew what he could learn? He could tell Aizen the girl was wounded in the skirmish with her guardian and died of her wounds upon entrance to Sereitei...yes, he could make this work. He would prevail: he could leave the life of blood-letting and assassination behind him, he could hold the power over Aizen and his smiling dog-fox once and for all.

He looked back down at Yachiru. The little girl was staring at him, eyes huge, a troubled look on her face.

Running footsteps sounded in the hallway: there was a hasty knock at the door. Hatori started, shaken out of his reverie.

"Enter," he called, still seated.

A youth with sunglasses and the beginnings of a moustache slid the door back, already on his knees in front of his captain.

"Taichou!" he gasped. "Urgent captains' meeting, by request of Yamamoto-soutaichou himself! Your presence is required immediately!"

Hatori's mind flew to the assumption that Aizen had anticipated him - _all is lost!_ \- but he forced himself to calm down, even as the doubts and suspicions roared through his head. How much did Aizen know? What if Yamamoto knew? What if Shihouin-taichou had found out about his operations? He'd been careful to train his division in stealth kidou...but what if she'd found out about this latest mission? He cursed mentally.

"Goggles-san, what's a Yamamoto?" Yachiru looked at the newcomer with interest, and Iba Tetsuzaemon stared back, at a complete loss.

"Iba," Hatori said tersely, "You did not see this child."

"Taichou?" The young man said, puzzled, then understanding dawned. "Ah, yes, taichou. What child?"

Hatori ignored him, still writhing with indecision. Go to the captains' meeting and leave the child unattended? Or stay here, and rouse suspicion in the minds of his peers? He couldn't allow the girl to fall into Aizen's hands. His eyes fell to the drawing on the floor before him, which Yachiru had been working on during their conversation. His thoughts froze.

"Yachiru-chan,"

"Mmhmm?" The girl looked up at Hatori questioningly.

"Yachiru-chan... this picture..."

Iba, watching his captain hesitate, felt uneasy for the first time. He had never seen Toyoma-taichou like this (granted, he'd only been in the eleventh division for a few years since graduating from the academy), and it was unnerving. It was obvious that the girl was the source of the problem.

"Taichou, if I may, I am able to watch over the girl while you're at the meeting," Iba offered, then remembered his place. "Ah, sorry, Taichou, it was rude of me to interrupt!"

Hatori looked up from the drawing on the floor. "No, I -"

There was a large crash, one which shook the building entire: Yachiru's crayons went flying, and Iba and Yachiru both lost their balance. Through the aftermath of falling bricks and running footsteps, there came a distant roar.

"Ken-chan!" Yachiru squealed happily. She got to her feet and, with swiftness unimaginable in a girl of her size, stepped (on Iba) through the door and ran off down the hallway, calling back over her shoulder.

"Thank-you, Hatori-san and Goggles-san! Bye!"


	12. Chapter 12

Kuukaku placed one foot in front of another carefully, feeling for weaknesses in the SekiSeki shield. So far she'd found nothing, and was beginning to feel edgy. She felt moderately grateful that nobody in Sereitei ever seemed to look up; she'd have to mention it to Yoruichi next time... didn't Hollows rip holes in the _sky_? Idiots. Complacent fools. She was beginning to get slightly annoyed at the fact that they had been walking for quite a while and yet she still didn't have a plan. She knew that one would come to her (they always did, and they were the best plans), but it was taking its own, sweet-ass time about it. She wondered how Kenpachi was doing, as he hadn't said a word. Urgency drove the both of them: without knowing why the shinigami wanted Yachiru, they had to get to her as quickly as possible, and the inching pace they were taking to avoid falling was driving Kuukaku nuts.

They had made their way down a long section of the wall (Kuukaku estimated it was a few kilometers at least) before Kenpachi finally spoke.

"So, you got a plan, or are we just gonna walk around all day?"

Kuukaku stopped and threw a hard look over her shoulder. "I'm thinkin', okay?" she said, perhaps more defensively than she should have, and cursed inwardly.

Kenpachi, for a split second, began to nod, but stopped abruptly and stared at her. "So you don't have a plan after all," he said, almost accusingly. "You shoulda let me fight that guy back there; we coulda gotten in faster and saved time."

"I wasn't about to let you fight a good friend of mine, Kenpachi from Zaraki," Kuukaku snapped, irritated. "Whoever won, it would've sucked, okay? I'm taking it you're the kind that fights to the death unless there's actual rules, am I right?"

He grinned at her, unexpectedly. "Only if the other guy can take it," he said. "No fun bullying weaker people; it don't prove anything, 'cept that you're a coward."

Kuukaku smirked back and resumed progress, a little unnerved by his grin. It was always savage, and she had a feeling that only the girl could ever construe it as a disarming show of amusement.

"So whatta we do, then?"

She looked back over her shoulder, scowling. "I'm thinking, okay? Also, we're just rounding the twelfth division headquarters; we should be in sight of eleventh division in a little while. We could use shunpo, if we were absolutely certain of not falling off. With my balance -" she gestured to the general lack of right arm " - and your inexperience, we'd best not try it. Also, this gives me time to think. About how to get in."

"Seems t'me the best way to get in is to smash through the walls," Kenpachi's voice rumbled behind her.

"No, that won't work," Kuukaku replied, this time keeping her eyes straight ahead of her, for better balance. "The sekiseki stone leeches reiatsu, remember? That's why I gave you the reiatsu focuser: just having it on you screws up the sekiseki influence, but you still can't get through it. The focuser won't let you make attacks outside of it, so you'd have to get rid of it, and then the sekiseki would eat your reiatsu. You lose either way."

"Che." Kenpachi reacted with scorn, but didn't say anything for a while, except for "Hurry up," and "Got any ideas now?"

At this last, Kuukaku, who had been on the verge of putting something together in her mind, lost what she had been scheming and began to turn around with a snarl. 

"I don't _FUCK_!" She had turned too fast, the momentum upsetting her already precarious balance, and lost her footing, pitching into space. immediately her left arm dove for the reiatsu focuser in her pouch; by activating it, her reiatsu would keep her afloat. Just as she did so, however, an arm reached out from behind her, snagging her around the waist and hauling her back up to the wall. The blue bubble of the focuser activated, and, quite suddenly, she was enclosed in a focused reiatsu bubble with Zaraki Kenpachi.

Still off-balance due to the strength of Kenpachi's arm and the rounded floor of the bubble, Kuukaku staggered backwards (inwardly cringing at the loss of dignity) and slammed into Kenpachi's abdomen. Kenpachi grunted, Kuukaku swore, and the bubble rocked: Kuukaku used the momentum to swing herself around the perimeter of the bubble. Hand still on the reiatsu focuser in the middle, feet scrabbling for purchase as the entire bubble swung violently forwards, Kuukaku tried desperately to breathe as Kenpachi's giant reiatsu was compressed into the small space by her own reiatsu: gasping, she had to strain to keep the bubble focused and whole.

Kenpachi was flung forwards, now: just as the bubble banged into the edge of the sekiseki wall, he fell against the not-glass of the reiatsu-focuser.

Kuukaku had a long moment where, most likely due to lack of oxygen, she was oddly detached from everything, and watched vaguely as her reiatsu bubble pulsed - ah shit, somebody's bound to have noticed that - and its normal blue colour was splintered and replaced with lighting-yellow. The bubble - it wasn't a bubble anymore, more like a huge frikkin' bomb - shone with an unearthly, piercing light: she saw Kenpachi's vicious grin as he realized what was happening, and all of a sudden there was a popping noise as the small reiatsu-dampener stone in her pocket shattered...

And she was back to herself, in the bubble, Kenpachi laughing hysterically as she choked back gasps of oxygen and the brightness of his reiatsu burned her eyes. There was what sounded like a muffled explosion; it echoed and a column of pure energy spiralled itself up towards the sky, coming from Kenpachi. The bubble walls were rock-hard and brittle, like candy, like sand... Kuukaku felt the grains of light under her hand as she braced herself against it. She knew what was coming next.

The reiatsu bubble, forced against the wall by either Kenpachi's gigantic reiatsu or his sheer willpower, grated for a single instant, and then exploded into the sekiseki.

The wall blew inwards, the noise nearly deafening Kuukaku as she was thrown forwards. Pivoting, she caught herself using shunpo and a handy rooftop, but had to cling to the lee of the tiles in order to avoid death by flying sekiseki stone. She couldn't see Kenpachi. The explosion echoed and re-echoed (so much for a stealthy entry), and almost immediately the wooden alarms began to be sounded. Intruders. Ryoka. She felt for a brief instant the old resentment rise within her - the Shiba Clan were noble, damnit, no matter what! - but brushed that away.

As the shockwave settled, she began to search for Kenpachi. They should stick together, find Yachiru, and then dole out some righteous havoc, but the first priority was -

There was a resounding roar, and Kuukaku turned to see Kenpachi gleefully hacking his way down the street towards her, the shinigami standing in his way falling like leaves. She sighed, cursed, spat, then jumped down from the roof to meet him.

"Oi, where's the captain's headquarters?" Kenpachi said, as Kuukaku dusted her skirt off.

"Dunno. Maybe you shouldn'ta killed them," she said sardonically, gesturing at the wake of carnage. "They were probably our best bet for finding the place."

"Che," Kenpachi turned his head and spat. "Didn't kill 'em; they're just bleedin' out. They'll get over it. I don't kill weaklings... I thought you said these shinigami were a bunch of hardasses."

Kuukaku rolled her eyes. "Not when you catch them off-guard, they aren't. These - "

She was cut off as a squealing pink ball ambushed Zaraki from behind, clinging to the back of his head and chanting, very rapidly, "KenchanKenchanKenchanKenchanKenchaaaa-"

Kenpachi, to his credit, merely put up a hand and grabbed the girl around her waist - his hand nearly encircling her entire, tiny torso - to pry her off of his head and deposit her on his shoulder.

"-aaaaaaaan!" she finished happily, rocking back and forth. "I knew you were lost! Good thing I found you, eh?" Her gaze landed on Kuukaku and she squealed, yet again. "Bedsheet-san found you tooooo!"

Kuukaku grinned and scratched her head. "Kid, why d'you call me Bedsheet-san, still? I'm not wearing them anymore."

"Cause you have a bedsheet on your head, silly!" Yachiru said, and it made all the sense in the world, at least to her. Kuukaku chuckled, but began to scan the area around them warily. There were bound to be more shinigami, at any moment. They shouldn't be out in the open.

"Yachiru," Kenpachi said, and it was in the oddest voice Kuukaku had heard from him yet. It was almost... soft? Nah...

"Mmm-hmm?" Yachiru hummed, smiling from ear to ear.

"Where were you before you found me?" Kenpachi continued, and his voice was deadly serious now. "Who was there with you?"

"Oh," Yachiru giggled. "There was Goggles-saaaaan -" she put up a finger "- and Hatori-saaaan!" She put up another finger, then suddenly shot her arm out in front of her, pointing directly down the road. "Look Ken-chan, there he is! It's Hatori-san! And Goggles-san! And... oh, look Ken-chan, lots of people came to play!"

Kuukaku saw it a split second after Yachiru: a man in the white haori of a captain seemingly stepped out of midair, a ways down the street: a moment later, a man with sunglasses stood behind him. And then it began, like the silent gathering of stormclouds, shinigami dressed in black began to step out of the air, lining the street in black, with the occasional white haori or brown armband.

 _Aw shit_ , Kuukaku thought. _Yoruichi, where the hell are you?_


	13. Chapter 13

_Yoruichi, where the hell are you?_

"I'm right here, you ass." Kuukaku hadn't been aware she'd spoken her question out loud until Yoruichi answered, the breeze from her swift arrival still ruffling the fabric of her official uniform.

"Good." Kuukaku replied, "What's the situation?"

Yoruichi gave her a Look. "Well, you've blasted the sekiseki wall, invaded Sereitei, and attacked off-duty shinigami. You didn't wait for me to call Toyoma out at the captains' meeting, you didn't wait for me to sweet-talk Yamamoto into admitting visitors from Rukongai, you didn't even wait for me to find you and brief you on what I've learned of Toyoma's motives so far." Yoruichi's voice was hard, "If you could've waited, we would have been able... to..." her voice trailed off, and she stared intently past Kuukaku.

Kuukaku, having tuned out Yoruichi's lecture for the most part, noticed and followed Yoruichi's gaze. The street was now lined with shinigami who, without orders from their captains, were waiting, watching, and standing at the ready. The few captains assembled seemed content to merely observe: the soutaichou was nowhere to be seen, and without his direction, they waited hands on hilts, motionless. The street had been turned into an arena, the crowd silently focussed on the towering figure of Kenpachi on one side, and the humble form of Toyoma on the other.

Kuukaku was about to ask Yoruichi what she had learned so far, but shut her mouth as Kenpachi took a step forward, unsheathing his sword to hold it loosely at his side, the tip trailing in the dust at his feet.

"Hatori," he spoke, and Toyoma Hatori started at the free use of his given name. "Hatori, if that's your name, are you gonna fight me or what?"

A murmur went through the crowd, and Kuukaku saw the eleventh division captain's hand jerk involuntarily, but otherwise Toyoma stayed motionless, not responding. Looking closer, Kuukaku could see that the man seemed to be battling internally: his face, prematurely lined with worry, was fixed in a grim expression. He looked not so much like a scheming pedophile than a tired man caught in a situation beyond his control, but Kuukaku didn't allow herself to pity him. She reminded herself that this was the man who had sent squads of trained fighters to attack a lone traveller with a child.

"I see no reason to fight you, ryoka," Toyoma's voice was quiet, and each word was deliberated. "Why do you call me out in single combat without even introducing yourself? Do you even know who I am?"

"Che," Kenpachi spat, and Kuukaku reigned back her indignance at being completely overlooked as her curiosity came to the fore. The man hadn't exactly been wordy the entire time she'd been around him, and she'd been wondering if he was just stoic by nature, or because of some unnamed awkwardness around her, most likely because of his perceived debt to her for her hospitality. She grinned at the thought of Kenpachi being a shit-talking fighter.

"I'm Zaraki Kenpachi, and I know enough about you. Yer a captain, and you've got no sense." Kenpachi was saying, "Does there have to be a reason to fight? Or are ya scared?"

_Interesting_ , thought Kuukaku. _He completely skirted the issue of Yachiru; he won't admit her as his weakness in front of his enemies, though it must be obvious from the way she's clinging to his shoulder. Come to think of it..._

"Yachiru-chan," Kuukaku said quietly, "how about you watch the fight from my shoulder? It'll be a better view, I promise."

The girl, who had been completely ignoring the hostility of the situation in favour of making silly faces at Toyoma, giggled and leapt down to Kuukaku's shoulder almost immediately. Kuukaku made an effort not to stagger with the sudden change in her balance; Yachiru put her hand up to the woman's ear and whispered loudly, "I think Ken-chan's gonna win this fight. Poor Hatori-san."

"I ain't in the habit of attackin' a man with no will to fight," Kenpachi growled, as Toyoma's continued silence stretched on, "but I'll make a special exception fer you. You started it, after all."

A zing of tension was added to the atmosphere, but the whispers of the assembled shinigami were cut off by Toyoma's voice. "I am a Captain of the Gotei 13, and you're just a killer from the eightieth district. What's to stop me from having my squad attack you instead?"

"Che, bastard. You tried that before, and it didn't work. Captain? A coward like you doesn't deserve the title. Now fight me." Reiatsu pressure, which had been slowly rising the entire time, spiked, and the air wavered; breathing suddenly became difficult for many in the crowd.

They were at an impasse, Kuukaku could see. Toyoma showed no inclination to fight Kenpachi himself, despite the whispers among the rank and file shinigami, which were getting louder and louder. There was movement beside Kuukaku: Yoruichi strode forward to stand in front of Kenpachi in the cleared street. The whispers among the shinigami became babble, and Kuukaku noticed several captains moved from their rooftop positions to the street.

"Yoruichi-sama," Toyoma seemed more resigned than surprised.

"Toyoma-taichou," Yoruichi said, and her voice was oddly formal and pitched to carry, "the man in front of you has challenged your claim to captaincy of the eleventh division." Kuukaku grinned, sudden understanding flashing through her mind. "As such," she carried on, "you can either respond to the challenge and defend your title, or hand the office over to your challenger. The required amount of squad members is present, as well as those from other divisions and their captains."

For an instant, the look that Toyoma gave Yoruichi was pleading, but the grim mask came down on it almost immediately. "Of course, Yoruichi-sama," he said, and his voice was tired. "Then, Zaraki Kenpachi, I accept your challenge, such as it is."

Yoruichi shunpo'd back to Kuukaku's side. Kenpachi was grinning viciously; he turned to look down at the two of them. "So if I win this, I take his place here in Sereitei?"

"Yep," Kuukaku smirked back.

"What does a captain do, anyway?"

"Orders people around, mostly," Yoruichi gave him a mischievous smile, "You get to fight hollows in your spare time, though. And there's sake enough to go around here."

"Sounds kinda good. Yachiru, you okay with that?"

"Mmhm!" The girl kicked her legs happily and Kuukaku winced a bit as Yachiru's heels dug into her several times.

"Alright then," Kenpachi turned back to face Toyoma, still speaking. "Yachiru, watch this."

"O-kay Ken-chan!" Yachiru giggled, and Kuukaku had no time to wonder at the significance of this exchange before Kenpachi was bearing down on Toyoma like a juggernaut: their zanpakutous met with a grating clash, the sparks flying.

Kuukaku, remembering her own sparring match with Kenpachi, was moderately impressed by how well Toyoma bore up under the pressure of Zaraki's sword before breaking away in order to get space for an attack. Kenpachi wouldn't let Toyoma go, however; the captain was forced into a defensive stance as his attacker hacked at him over and again, zanpakutous ringing and screeching with each blow.

Yoruichi leaned over to murmur in Kuukaku's ear. "This is it? I've never seen such a reckless lack of style in a fighter. Perhaps this is enough to beat up the thugs of Rukongai, but Toyoma is a kidou master, and once he goes shikai - or bankai, though it looks as though it won't need to come to that - your friend's going to be in trouble."

There was a muffled shout: a shot of blue hit Kenpachi in the left shoulder and he staggered back as Toyoma sprang to the offensive. They met blade to blade, Kenpachi smirking, Toyoma intense.

"I believe you may be underestimating him," Kuukaku didn't bother to keep her voice down, as the crowd was animated now: shinigami cheered on their captain, or took bets on who would win, and still others exclaimed over each successive attack. "Strength may be all he has, but it's something to be reckoned with."

"Yes, but will it be enough?" Yoruichi turned back to watch the fighters, and Kuukaku followed her gaze. She was struck once again by the sheer size of the Kenpachi: the eleventh division captain was perhaps just under six feet, not a height to sneeze at in a place where most did not reach over five feet six inches, but he seemed frail and small compared to Kenpachi. The man was built like a brick shithouse, Kuukaku thought wryly, and seemed to have the fitting amount of finesse to go with it. But blunt though his style might have been, it was working, and Kuukaku watched Kenpachi drive Toyoma back on the defensive: the captain was bleeding from his right side. Kenpachi himself now had burns along his left side and the skin on his sword arm was cracked all the way up to the elbow, but he didn't seem to notice. Reiatsu leaped and crackled and the crowd began to quieten as it became necessary to concentrate in order to breathe.

"The trick is to pretend like you're a backwards bubble,"

"What?" Kuukaku started as the voice sounded in her ear; she'd nearly forgotten about Yachiru, who had been watching happily the entire time.

The girl tapped Kuukaku's head several times. "A backwards bubble, Bedsheet-san! It makes it easier to breathe, sometimes, when Ken-chan's fighting. You pretend you're just a bubble in a glass of water, but a bubble of nothing. There's no air inside you so the water doesn't press on you, but you're still full of nothing, so the water can't take you over."

Kuukaku tried to think this through, and decided not to tell Yachiru that it made no sense. If the girl believed it worked, then it worked, at least for her. Kuukaku realized that she had yet to feel Yachiru's reiatsu: not once had the girl given off the slightest suggestion that she even had reiatsu... yet she was hungry and thirsty, and obviously could sense others' reiatsus. Perhaps this child had - in self-preservation - learned to conceal her reiatsu so completely that it was nearly invisible?

"Yay, go Ken-chan!" Yachiru cheered as her guardian sliced off half of Toyoma's left ear and left a ragged wound down the captain's jawbone. Kenpachi shunpo'd away as Toyoma clutched at his head, and stood watching impassively.

"Is this all?" He called, and his tone was distinctly unimpressed. "I thought that the captains of Sereitei were strong. Yet all you've managed to do is burn me a coupla times with that kidou crap. This fight ain't as fun as I thought it would be."

Toyoma's only reply was a shout: "Kaku, Keiteki no Usagi!"

His zanpakutou shone, unsealing itself: Keiteki no Usagi was a sword with two blades attached to the same hilt, with two wicked-looking spines extending upwards from the main body of each blade. The overall effect was of a rack of small, jaggedly sharp antlers.

Onlookers drew in a sharp breath; Kenpachi looked less than intimidated, half-grinning, he began an amused sentence. "What-"

He was forced to stop before the end of his sentence as Toyoma's reiatsu, dark blue and powerfully heavy, crashed over the crowd like a tidal wave as his energy spiked from the release of his zanpakutou. Kuukaku, caught off-guard, staggered a bit before righting herself: many others in the crowd were forced to the ground, whether having lost their balance completely or simply being unable to bear up under the sudden increase of pressure.

Toyoma Hatori's calm voice was the bright wind which cut through the dense waters. "Ibara no kan."

Light spilled out from Toyoma's twinned blades as he slashed the zanpakutou sideways towards Kenpachi, a blue light so dark that it should not have - could not have - the capacity to leave the onlookers temporarily blinded and blinking, but it did nonetheless. Kuukaku threw her arm up in front of her eyes, reflexes trained by constant work with gunpowder to protect the eyes at all costs; it was the main reason that she was one of the first to see the scene which followed.

Toyoma stood, zanpakutou pointed outwards, his heavy breathing belying his otherwise calm demeanor. Before him, in the dust, knelt Zaraki Kenpachi, bound with crackling ropes of deep blue reiatsu. Kuukaku's eyes widened: Kenpachi was grimacing as he bled from more places than she could count, each wound concealed - and obviously caused - by the binding reiatsu.

"Shimeru."

Kuukaku drew her breath in sharply: it was a double-command shikai. For a moment, the Shiba clan-head wondered just what Zaraki had gotten himself into. The sword obeyed its master: the ropes began to constrict, the blood began to flow in earnest, and Yachiru began to search for a crayon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written before I had any first-hand knowledge or made any academic study of the Japanese language. Original note reads: According to my Extensive and Expert Knowledge of Japanese (read: my online dictionary search skills), I was able to garble the language enough to come out with a name and function for Toyoma's sword. "Keiteki no Usagi" is "Horns of the Rabbit"; his sword spirit is what in some cultures is called a jackalope, the fusion of an antelope and a rabbit. Basically a large hare with horns and extreme speed. "Kaku" means "rake" or "scratch". "Ibara no kan" means "crown of thorns", and "shimeru" is "to constrict". For all Toyoma's anxious personality, he's a captain and incredibly powerful, and I hoped to get that across in this chapter.
> 
> Let me know if I missed or messed up any linguistic nuances.


	14. Chapter 14

Toyoma Hatori stood, his challenger helpless in front of him, and strove not to think about the situation in general. The man's blood ran dark into the dirt, his mouth drawn in a grimace of pain as the ropes constricted, but Hatori could see nothing else but the face of Aizen in the audience, looking down on the battle with mild interest.

 _Oh God. How much did Aizen know?_ He'd botched it up; he'd been trying to avoid this but _shit, the girl was just over there with the Shiba woman_ \- oh yes, he'd know that insignia anywhere - and now this man, and there would be questions. Questions about the girl - Iba would have to be neutralized; he'd seen her in Sereitei before the other ryoka - questions about the man - Yoruichi had obviously fabricated this captaincy claim out of thin air - questions about the Shiba - _what the hell did she have to do with this, anyway?_ Keiteki no Usagi shook in his hand; he cast about desperately for a distraction.

He did not want to kill this man, this Zaraki. He had to keep him alive; as long as the fight went on, he would have time to think, to plan, to escape... He could let Zaraki kill him. The thought flashed through Hatori's mind and was immediately quashed by both his own thoughts and those of Keiteki no Usagi.

 _We run_ , The horned rabbit said softly, quickly, through his mind, _but we do not surrender. We retreat, we bargain, we are sly and cunning, we use trickery and wit to get out of these situations. We fight if we have to. We do not lay down and die_.

Hatori shook himself. He had to stall.

"Keiteki no Usagi is a kidou-based zanpakutou," he found himself saying. "When released, it focuses my reiatsu through the blades, and channels it to where I want it to go."

He had less than five minutes to come up with a plan before he ran out of things to say. Another part of his mind began to pray silently.

In the crowd, Kuukaku watched as Toyoma just stood there and began to explain his sword's function. What the hell was he playing at? She turned to say so to Yoruichi, but found the spot beside her was empty: a swift look around the crowd revealed the woman's purple head bent together with a scarred, bald one attached to a very old man with a captain's robe. Yamamoto-soutaicho. Kuukaku decided not to barge in, instead continuing look around for her other companion.

Yachiru had leapt off her shoulder and was drawing in the dust at her feet. Kuukaku peered at the image, but couldn't see what it was, exactly: Yachiru was working furiously, but blasts of reiatsu from Toyoma and Kenpachi kept smudging the picture before she could finish it.

Kuukaku looked back at Kenpachi. The man was still in the dirt, still bleeding, still grimacing...or wait. Kuukaku looked closer; he was doing something.

"When commanded, Keiteki no Usagi creates ropes of dense reiatsu to contain the victim; it is essentially an advanced binding spell, but with a twist. Each of Keiteki no Usagi's ropes is barbed with small thorns; instead of just containing an enemy, it is offensive as well."

Zaraki looked up as Toyoma finished. He noted the glint in the man's eye, the white knuckles of his sword hand, the way he was not looking at Zaraki, but at a point above his head. Someone in the crowd, no doubt. Interesting.

"Are ya done?" Zaraki asked, and flexed his reiatsu, as he'd been doing for the past few minutes. Once again, the ropes were forced a few centimeters off his skin, once again the thorns withdrew from his flesh before slamming back into place as Zaraki finished pushing.

"I - yes, I -" Toyoma looked caught off-guard, preoccupied. Dangerously so.

"Good," Zaraki said. "Cause I don't like fighting a man that doesn't pay me full attention."

"Fighting? You're hardly in a position to -"

"This ain't ever been about me," Zaraki interrupted, slowly beginning to stand, encumbered by the kidou as he was. "And it wasn't even all about the kid, either. Something else is botherin' ya, Hatori. You're bein' hunted."

"It's not -"

"Shutup when I'm talkin', Hatori," Zaraki finished standing, and began to flex his reiatsu again, bit by bit, degree by degree. "Someone's chasin' ya, or got ya backed into a corner, by the looks of it." His gruff, commanding voice was almost quiet for a moment, and he bent over, almost conspiratorially. "Look, I've been there, done that. Courtesy of you, in fact. I know what it's like..." He bent even closer. "But you know what makes me different from you?"

Hatori stared, openmouthed, at the man before him, and shook his head slightly, dazedly.

"I FOUGHT BACK!" Zaraki roared, and let his reiatsu loose.

Time seemed to stand still. A rent opened in the sky as a column of pure energy enveloped Zaraki, rooting itself in the earth and extending until it seemed to link the earth and the heavens. The blue ropes dissolved and blew away; Toyoma was thrown back, and Kuukaku had to catch Yachiru by the wrist to keep the girl from being tossed down the street by the blast. Shinigami shunpo'd out of the alleyway, ears popping and hearts skipping; others not so self-possessed lay unconscious.

Zaraki himself threw back his head and howled in laughter, pure energy singing through his veins. So _this_ was power! He'd always known he was selling himself short... he made the hole in his mind and called the lightning down to fill it, marvelling at how easy it was. It felt good. It felt right. Yes, this was how it was supposed to be!

Teeth bared in a smile to shame the devil, Zaraki fixed his eyes on Toyoma and, once again, barked his challenge.

"Hatori, come fight me!"

Hatori, who had landed on his feet, drew in a ragged breath. He knew, then, that even if he performed bankai, he would not win. The man standing in front of him was too powerful. Keiteki no Usagi shouted in his mind, but Toyoma knew in his heart that he could not win the fight; if he did indeed triumph over Zaraki, he would still ultimately lose to Aizen. He'd never thought it would end this way; it was almost laughable. No captain in living history had had to defend their title against a challenger, Hatori thought bitterly; he'd always imagined dying by a knife in the back, or a kidou poison from a kind hand. Such was his life. Perhaps he didn't even deserve to die honourably like this, but Hatori was thankful for small graces. Perhaps in his next life, he would meet his son.

And so Toyoma Hatori straightened up, ignoring his zanpakutou's furious shouting like so much noise, and brought Keiteki no Usagi into an attack stance, raising his eyes to meet Zaraki's in a steady gaze.

There were three heartbeats.

One, and Keiteki no Usagi screamed against Zaraki's nameless blade.

Two, and Kuukaku was forced to her knees, ears and nose bleeding from the reiatsu pressure.

Three, and Toyoma Hatori's body fell to the ground, his head landing with an audible thump, several seconds later. Keiteki no Usagi, sheared in two, lay by his side.

There was a long breath, and time resumed its normal pace as reiatsu bled away.

Shinigami, those who were still conscious, began to stand up again, leaning on each other for support, still silent. Kuukaku swallowed the scream that she had been choking back and wiped the blood off her face as best she could with the back of her hand. Standing up took effort, but Kuukaku managed to do it without grimacing, and looked up. Kenpachi was straightening up, the cloak of the eleventh division captain slung over his shoulder, with Yachiru at his feet.

They stood like that for a moment, the girl stood looking up at her guardian, who regarded her solemnly, as if the insane laughter of battle had not just been written all over his face.

"Ken-chan?" Her voice was very soft, and Kuukaku felt almost as if she shouldn't be listening in, but the street was deathly silent, and the quiet tones carried.

"I'm okay, Yachiru." Kenpachi knelt in front of the pink-haired child until they were face to face.

"It was a good fight, Ken-chan."

The man nodded. "Yeah. It was." He then scooped the girl up in one hand, deposited her on his shoulder, and stood again.

There was a muttering among the shinigami as Kenpachi began to walk away from the body of the defeated captain and towards Kuukaku. She stood, feeling a bit lost, because neither of them knew what happened after this. They hadn't planned that far... but then, she thought wryly, she hadn't planned to get so involved with the affairs of a wandering stranger. One thing she did know, however; his reiatsu, though slightly lessened after Toyoma's death, was still at an intense level of pressure. This became more apparent the closer he came.

He'd nearly reached her, and Kuukaku suddenly was struck by how the other shinigami must see this. The warrior, after defeating the foe, goes back to claim the girl. _Ohh, hell no_. The gossip mills would be running on this for _weeks_. Luckily, Kenpachi had shown not a scrap of romantic nature up to this point, and Kuukaku leaned heavily on this assumption as he came to stand in front of her.

Her breath hitching as she tried not to choke on reiatsu pressure, Kuukaku looked up at Kenpachi and squinted. "You planning on controlling your reiatsu any time this century?" She barked, probably a bit more harshly than she should have, but a headache was beginning to pound fiercely at her temples.

Kenpachi, predictably, turned his head. "Che." Then, less predictably, he continued. "I don't think I can."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hatori denied himself/was cheated out of bankai, yes. Part of that was due to his acceptance of his own death (and I hope I orchestrated his thoughts so that it didn't come out of the blue), and part of it will be explained in the next chapter


	15. Chapter 15

Yoruichi, one of the few still standing along with Yamamoto-soutaichou, watched Toyoma fall in silence, her blood rushing in her temples as her lungs fought against the suffocating reiatsu. Yamamoto leaned on his cane, as always, and Yoruichi felt annoyed that he showed no reaction, neither to Toyoma's fall nor to the immense spiritual pressure. She braced herself, looking around; it was only captains standing now, and some of them showed surprise on their faces as they were forced to focus their own reiatsu in response to Zaraki's.

It was over now, and Yoruichi breathed a - still constricted - sigh of relief, which she abruptly cut off as Tousen appeared beside Yamamoto. There were several more rustles, and Ukitake, Aizen, Komamura, and Urahara each stepped up to form a semi-circle in front of Yamamoto, waiting silently, expectantly for the Captain-commander to speak. Behind them, Zaraki knelt to speak to Yachiru.

"Well?" Yamamoto said finally, raising one white eyebrow at his captains.

"Soutaichou," Tousen immediately began, "We cannot allow this... this monster in to our ranks! The way he killed Toyoma-san - I feel that he has little or no regard for the laws of Sereitei; how could he, being straight from Rukongai?"

"It is true," Komamura rumbled, his voice distorted by the helmet he always wore. "This man cannot know much of our way of life. To not allow Toyoma-san the courtesy of bankai - I know not where he learned how to fight, but it I must conclude that it was a school with little honour."

"Nonetheless, he won the battle," Yoruichi interjected defiantly, "according to our laws, if a captain is challenged and defeated in front of at least two hundred squad members," she spread her hand in a wide sweep, indicating the still-crouched shinigami in the street, "the challenger has the right to assume captaincy and a place in the Gotei Thirteen. He has not yet broken one of our laws."

Yamamoto remained silent, and Ukitake spoke up, lungs wheezing ever-so-slightly.

"Yoruichi-san, you speak truth, but what about his break-in? The sekiseki wall will take quite a while to repair, leaving us open to hollow attack."

"Aah, Ukitake-san, don't make such a fuss." Urahara waved his hand flippantly, "We are more than capable of warding off hollow attacks, especially now with this man on the team. Such reiatsu! I should like him to stay."

"You just want to study his power, Urahara-san," Ukitake accused lightly, nonetheless sporting an amused smile, which fell almost immediately as he began to cough.

The captains waited in polite, sympathetic silence while Ukitake convulsed, fishing in his pocket for a cough lozenge, until Aizen tactfully produced one from his own coat and gave it to the white-haired captain.

"The destruction of the sekiseki wall seems to me less of an infraction than an overdue reminder," the captain of the fifth squad said mildly, once Ukitake had quietened. "We now have the opportunity to strengthen the seki stone to prevent another breach."

"Soutaichou, I can not remain silent on this issue," Tousen spoke again, urgency in his voice. "Are we all to forget that Toyoma-san has just been murdered before our very eyes? And not by hollow, but by another spirit? This seems to me a grave breach of justice."

"Tousen-san, the laws of Sereitei have been in place for over two thousand years," Ukitake said, gently but firmly. "Brutal though it may be, trial by combat is a valid method of succession to captaincy. This is not the first time it has happened in Sereitei, nor do I think it will be the last."

Komamura's expression was a mystery, but his voice emanating from the helmet was full of disapproval. "I cannot forsee any good coming of the admission of a man who slaughters his opponents so readily. Toyoma-taichou had not yet called out his bankai; to me, this seems but a half-victory. At the very least, it is a victory without honour."

Aizen spoke up once again, his tone placating. "Komamura-taichou, Tousen-taichou, your fears are valid. But what better place for a man such as this than Sereitei, where the most powerful shinigami can keep watch on him? Certainly you agree with me when I say that it is better he is here, adhering to our laws, than stirring up trouble in Rukongai."

This proposal was met with silence. Tousen shot Aizen a sharp look and Yoruichi held her breath. They seemed to have reached a standstill; it was up to Yamamoto now.

"So," Yamamoto said, after an interval, as the reiatsu settling on their shoulders continued to push down. "The challenger - Zaraki, was it?" He looked at Yoruichi, who nodded. "This Zaraki. I shall have to speak to him. A captain should know his commander."

"Soutaichou-" Tousen began in protest, but Yamamoto continued speaking.

"If there are those of you who doubt my decision, you may speak to me privately after this. Come." He began walking towards Zaraki and Kuukaku.

Tousen looked as if he wanted to say more, but Komamura put a large hand on his friend's shoulder, and the blind captain fell into a brooding silence.

Yoruichi fell in to step beside Urahara as they followed the Soutaichou. "Thanks," she murmured quietly, and Urahara grinned happily in reply.

 _"What?!"_ Came a roar, which Yoruichi recognized as Kuukaku's; as they neared the two, she could hear the Shiba's furious, slightly strangled voice. "What do you mean, _you can't?"_

Zaraki looked almost embarrassed, if that was at all possible, and Yachiru sat, giggling, on his shoulder. Kuukaku was in front of him, the pointer finger of her only hand jabbed directly at Zaraki's face; she was breathing heavily and swaying.

"I don't care if you can't; turn it off right now!" She was saying forcefully, and Yoruichi dashed over and caught the Shiba just as the other woman toppled off-balance.

"Yoruichi, you sly bitch, when did you get here?" Kuukaku said, looking up-side down at Yoruichi from her resting place in her friend's arms. She was a little cross-eyed, and Yoruichi didn't blame her: here, near Zaraki, the pressure on her lungs was causing each breath to ache. Zaraki was looking down at the two of them with mild concern; Yachiru stared at Kuukaku in fascination. "Bedsheet-san is looooopy!" she crowed, and giggled, completely unaffected by the reiatsu which bore down so forcefully on all the others.

"Yachiru." Zaraki said, and the girl quieted down.

Yamamoto cleared his throat. "Zaraki Kenpachi," he said, his earlier "forgetfulness" gone. Yoruichi's mouth crooked in a lopsided grin; the old man knew how to play his cards.

"Yeah?" Zaraki turned to face the Soutaichou.

"I am Yamamoto Genryuusai-Shigekuni," the old man rumbled, "Soutaichou of the Gotei 13. Toyoma Hatori was under my command. You have robbed me of a valuable fighter, even if your duel was within Sereitei's regulations."

Behind Yamamoto, Ukitake began convulsing again, and Aizen led the whitehaired captain away from such close proximity to Zaraki's reiatsu. Yamamoto paid no attention to this, his eyes fixed on Zaraki's face.

"The loss of Toyoma-san leaves a gap in the defense of Soul Society: you have taken a valuable thing from me, Zaraki Kenpachi. And so I must ask you: are you prepared to repay me this debt with your indefinite service to Sereitei, in place of Toyoma-san?"

Zaraki shrugged. "Sure, I'll be a captain here. Sir," he added, as an afterthought, and grinned wolfishly.

Yamamoto looked unruffled by Zaraki's flippancy. "Then, Zaraki-san, it is done. My first order to you is to restrain your reiatsu. Not all shinigami are at such a level as we."

Zaraki opened his mouth to speak, but Yachiru piped up from his shoulder. "Ken-chan can't do it, Beard-sama. He doesn't know how."

"Shutup, Yachiru," Zaraki said, but good-naturedly. "I do too know how. It's just that I already am; there ain't anythin' else I can do."

There was a moment of silence as everyone digested this information. Yoruichi waited nervously for Yamamoto to revoke his offer, but was saved as Urahara, stooped only slightly under the reiatsu, stepped forward enthusiastically. "Yamamoto-san, I believe I have just the thing for this. Come with me, Zaraki-san!" Without further ado, he began to bustle off down the road.

"Follow him, Zaraki-taichou, and then report to First Division headquarters; Urahara-taichou can help you with directions."

"Yes, sir." Zaraki tried out the honorific for size, smirking as he did so, and turned to follow the sprightly twelfth division captain. As his reiatsu left the immediate area, every shinigami found themselves breathing easier; Kuukaku was able to stand up once again without leaning heavily on Yoruichi.

"Now, Shiba-san," Yamamoto turned to face Kuukaku, who stood to attention. "I trust you are no longer feeling infirm?"

"Ah, no sir," Kuukaku said deferentially, embarrassed at her complete loss of composure in front of the Commander-general and six captains. Not to mention Zaraki.

"Good. You and Shihouin-san will follow me to First Division, where we will discuss this afternoon's events. Sasakibe-fukutaichou," he said, voice raised slightly. The white-haired vice-captain materialised behind his captain, already kneeling and awaiting orders. "Please organize a detail of shinigami to prepare Toyoma-san's body for burial."

"Yessir." The man shunpo'd away.

"Now then," Yamamoto continued, "shall we?" And he stepped, and flickered out of sight.


	16. Chapter 16

Kuukaku sat, utterly bored, on the front step of the first division headquarters. She could hear the muted voices of Yoruichi and Yamamoto coming from inside; Kuukaku had told her side of the story very frankly to the Soutaichou, and Yoruichi was currently presenting the intelligence she'd gained on Toyoma's hunt for Yachiru. Which was, disappointingly, very little. All potential trails seemed to go cold very quickly, and as Zaraki had killed Toyoma's vice during that last, ill-fated ambush, there was no-one directly connected to the man to interrogate.

Kuukaku blew out a sigh, stretching a little as the cool evening breeze picked up. She was wondering idly how long Yoruichi was going to be when there were footsteps behind her: the second division captain cocked a grin at her.

"Well, we're through."

"Took you long enough." Kuukaku got up, dusting herself off. "Where's the Soutaichou?"

"He's busy writing letters to Central 46 about Toyoma," she began to walk down the street, Kuukaku falling in step beside her. "I've gotta get to fourth division and let them know to start making preparations."

"Preparations?"

"For your friend's captaincy ceremony, moron," Yoruichi gave Kuukaku a light slap to the back of her head; Kuukaku retaliated with a punch, expecting her friend to dodge, and grunted in surprise when her fist connected solidly to flesh. Flesh that was not brown or feminine, but pale like her own and covered in stubble.

"Owww, _shit_! Kuukaku!" Shiba Kaien stumbled back, clutching his jaw, a wounded expression in his eyes. "Is that any way to say hello to your favourite older brother?"

"Jerk, you're my only older brother," Kuukaku retorted, smiling despite herself, "and it's your own fault for not dodging. Yoruichi managed it."

"Yoruichi-sama is a goddess of shunpo," Kaien executed a small bow in the direction of the Shihouin, who was wearing a very smug, feline smile. "Anyway, I just heard about the kerfuffle; I was in the living world this afternoon, doing some special training with Kyouraku-taichou's squad."

"Ah, I'd wondered where he'd gotten to," Yoruichi remarked. "He never passes up an opportunity for entertainment."

"It was that interesting, was it?" Kaien asked, "I'm sorry I missed it then. How about filling me in on all the juicy details? All I heard was that some monstrously strong vagabond from Rukongai busted his way in here and defeated Toyoma-taichou in single combat, all with my little sister in tow. Although," he gave Kuukaku a sidelong glance, "I doubt the truth of that last statement. There was no way you weren't involved with it up to the neck, Kuu-chan."

Kuukaku crossed her arms and grinned. "Not saying anything until you feed me, Aniki. Invading gives me an appetite."

"I see how it is," Kaien said, mock-jadedly. "I finally get somewhere in life, only to have my relatives come to mooch off me. Ah, fine, follow me."

The three made their way down the road towards Kaien's quarters, watched by two sets of eyes.

"Bedsheet-san has a big brother," Yachiru observed, popping her head over Zaraki's shoulder. "Ne, Ken-chan, I want a big brother!"

"Don't be stupid," Zaraki retorted, walking up the first division steps, "you have me." He tripped on the last step, stubbing his toe and cursing loudly.

"Silly Ken-chan can't walk," Yachiru singsonged as Zaraki muttered epithets against the brand-new eyepatch that he now wore. It was damn creepy, the fact that he was wearing a living thing on his face; if he let a bit of light in under the patch, he could see the thing's glittery eyes and ever-working mouths. The flappy scientist captain had assured him that it would eat up to fifty percent of the reiatsu he radiated: Zaraki could feel the difference. It wasn't just the loss of depth perception which was making him clumsy, but the feeling that perhaps gravity was pulling on him a bit more than other people.

Even after being healed - the flappy captain had shooed him off to a division full of people with arms like sticks who seemed to crap magic, but hey, whatever worked - Zaraki felt tired. Weary. Weighed down. It made him want to rip the eyepatch off, but each time he raised his hand - just to scratch it, of course - Yachiru would give him a swat. He sighed, then knocked on the door in front of him.

It slid back almost immediately, the man with short, white hair - fukutaichou, Zaraki remembered - ushering him in. In the back room, Yamamoto-soutaichou was sitting crosslegged on a few convenient cushions: before him was a low table with a tea service.

"Sit down, Zaraki-san," Yamamoto commanded, and Zaraki complied, taking the tea that was proffered. He looked at it for a moment, then passed it up to Yachiru, who had moved to sit on his shoulder.

"Arigatou," she said happily; Yamamoto regarded her with more bemusement than surprise on his face.

"Zaraki-san, I don't believe I've met your companion," he rumbled.

"Soutaichou, this is my ward, Kusajishi Yachiru," Zaraki said, then wondered if he should elaborate, then wondered what the hell he would say. On his shoulder, Yachiru waved cheerfully and kicked her feet.

"Your... ward." Yamamoto coughed, not quite masking the smile. "Am I right in assuming she has no parents?"

"Nope," Yachiru piped up. "Ken-chan gave me my name."

Zaraki's eyes met Yamamoto's with a deliberately stony gaze. There was a moment of silence, in which Zaraki could hear a strange, muffled cough from the fukutaichou outside.

"Ah," Yamamoto said, and that one word carried volumes of meaning, which Zaraki let pass by without a word. "Well then. Zaraki-san and Kusajishi-chan. Sereitei is now your home; more specifically, the eleventh division is now your home, your job, your responsibility, and your dearest friends. Sereitei exists to maintain balance between Soul Society and the "real" world; we facilitate the entry of spirits into Soul Society, and we attempt to free those souls who have become hollows. Hollows attempt to devour the "plus" spirits before we may send them to the afterlife; it is our job to purify hollows by slaying them with our zanpakutous."

Yachiru, who had been listening wide-eyed, leaned down and stage-whispered gleefully in Zaraki's ear. "Ken-chan! Your job is to fight things!"

Yamamoto cleared his throat. "Yes, in effect. Although the purifying of hollows does not, in fact, destroy the souls within the hollow; it merely releases them into Soul Society as "plus" spirits. On occasion, hollows will find their way into Soul Society, but for the most part, each member of each division is assigned to a specific location in the "real" world to find and deal with the spirits there. As captain, Zaraki-san, it will be your duty to train the shinigami in your division, preparing them for battle, as well as managing the assignation of shinigami to the real world, and processing and filing the reports from on-duty shinigami."

"Paperwork?" Zaraki snorted. "Sir, I'm a simple man, and I know my limits. Paperwork is one of them."

"As captain, your main job is to approve reports and investigate ones you feel are problematic," Yamamoto poured himself another cup of tea. "For the most part, a vice-captain does the paperwork. Since Toyoma-san's vice-captain was reported to have been killed on a mission to Rukongai, you are free to pick your own vice-captain. You must choose carefully; I advise you to get to know your subordinates first before promoting any one to the position, as it requires an immense amount of strength and skill, not to mention talent in the areas of -"

"Kusajishi Yachiru," Zaraki cut Yamamoto off. "She will do as my vice-captain."

There was a long moment.

"Zaraki-san, you are aware that a vice-captain must have a zanpakutou of their own?" Yamamoto put his tea down on the table. "Not to mention have the capacity to read and write lengthy reports, hold her own in pitched battle, and be responsible for a squad of shinigami fighters? I have little say in your appointment of officers, but I must ask you to reconsider this."

"Yachiru will do," Zaraki said again. "She learns pretty fast."

"And I've got a zanpakutou!" Yachiru piped up cheerfully, producing a tiny, sheathed sword out of nowhere. "Ken-chan taught me how to fight; don't worry, Beard-sama."

Yamamoto's hand went reflexively to his beard before he realized what he was doing and picked up his tea again. He sipped slowly, deliberating, his eyes nearly hidden by his shaggy, overhanging eyebrows.

"Very well," he said finally. "I hope that you will not regret this decision, Zaraki-san."

"Thank you, sir," Zaraki said blandly.

"You may follow Sasakibe-fukutaichou to your quarters at the eleventh division. Dinner has already ended, but there should be some already brought up to your office. After that, you may wish to address your squad, and any concerns they may have about your captaincy."

Yamamoto stood up, Zaraki doing so as well, and the two men bowed formally to each other. "There will be a captain's meeting here tomorrow at noon to discuss both your captaincy ceremony and a funeral for Toyoma-san," Yamamoto said, after straightening up. "Attendance is mandatory. Good night Zaraki-taichou, Kusajishi-fukutaichou."

Zaraki turned and left, following the white-haired vice-captain down the hallway. "Niiiight!" Yachiru called back over his shoulder, then used her zanpakutou to ding Zaraki on the top of the head.

"Brat, what the hell."

"Ken-chan needs better hair," Yachiru explained, as they walked out into the cool night air. "All the captains here have pretty hair. I want Ken-chan to have pretty hair, too!"

Zaraki ignored the muffled snorting of their guide as he replied. "Kid, the day that I have pretty hair is the day my sword gets up and starts walking and talking."

"Awwww," Yachiru pouted.

"Maybe bad-ass hair," Zaraki conceded.

"Or a beard!"

"Not a beard."

"Phooey."

Yachiru yawned, effectively ruining her cross face, and listened to the gravel crunching under Ken-chan and Quiet-chan's feet. All around her, lights were softly glowing from different division buildings; as they passed by doorways she could hear chatter and laughter. She might have fun here, Yachiru decided. And, with a little getting used to it, Ken-chan might have fun too. She watched a shinigami with a broom chase another shinigami across the street, and made up her mind. She would make it fun... starting with Ken-chan's hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author note archaeology (modified from the original fic):
> 
> All good things must come to an end, and I'd rather not flog this like a dead horse. So, the epic adventure ends, and several ends are left loose for perhaps maybe future oneshots. This isn't quite a Kuukaku/Zaraki romance - I've tried very hard to keep everything to manga canon (up to the point it was at in the spring of 2008) in this fic, so a torrid, on-going love affair between two characters who have ostensibly never met each other in the actual storyline wouldn't really work. I was prompted to write a podfic with that pairing, which can be found under the title "A Gratuitous Interlude", but it's not canon to the story.
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading and sticking it out to the end.


End file.
